The Lake Superior School of Sorcery: The American Wizard School
by LadyNightofBamberg
Summary: Everyone knows there are eleven wizarding schools, the most famous of which is Hogwarts. But where do the American kids go? This story is completely composed of OCs with occasional cameos from our favorite wizards. T rating for mild violence and suspense.
1. Chapter 1

Lake Superior School of Sorcery: The American Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: This is a parody and nonprofit story based in the fictional universe of Harry Potter. All rights belong to Joanne K. Rowling. **

A little house stood on the edge of the suburbs, a tiny cottage like edifice dwarfed by its comparatively huge counterparts that cast it into shadow. It was a poor man's house situated quite snugly in a rich man's neighborhood and looked as out of place as a garden snake among a litter of pythons. It was night, and the only sound was the distant blaring of police sirens and alarm bells, ever present in most American urban towns. A few cats milled through the neatly kept lawns of the structures while the houses stayed irrevocably silent and dark, not giving off any indication of an aberration.

The only thing out of place in the distinctly normal American neighborhood was the shadowy figure that stayed atop the swaying pine trees, its beady eyes alert and fierce. Its high, noble head and curved distinct beak were out of place and foreign to the petite sparrows and thrushes that made up the region's aviary area. It was an eagle, the same that propagated so much of national propaganda and symbols, far from its home and very out of place. It was waiting, quite diligently, on the small girl in the impecunious house to wake up and find her letter so that it could return and confirm that the recipient had found the message.

When at last the night sky turned to a darkened blue, a light in the upstairs bedroom switched on, revealing a tiny form that could be seen rolling out of bed and plopping down the stairs to breakfast. The eagle ruffled its feathers and launched into the sky, knowing that a certain ten year old would find a letter lying on the doorway addressed;

Miss Rebecca Nurse

Top floor, second door to the right

1692 Salem Drive

Bamberg, South Carolina

**Notes: Rebecca Nurse was a convicted and executed witch in the Salem Witch trials. I have chosen to reuse her name here for ironic reasons. Her house number is the year she was executed. I changed the delivery birds from owls to eagles because I thought early American wizards would want to be patriotic, and would probably switch their mail delivery system during the American War for Independence to spite the British. I will probably put one of these at the end of each chapter to explain my reasons for changing something from the iconic Hogwarts image. **


	2. Chapter 2: The Letter with no Zip Code

Chapter Two: The Letter with no Zip code

**Disclaimer: This is a parody and nonprofit story based in the fictional universe of Harry Potter. All rights belong to Joanne K. Rowling. **

Rebecca Nurse fumbled down the stairs, hers eyes squinted and bloated from the previous night's sleep. She stumbled ungracefully into the kitchen and nearly collided into her mother. Mrs. Nurse was a tall, muscular looking woman with the sharp eyes of the hawk and the disciplinary sense of General Patton. At six o'clock in the morning she appeared to be fully dressed in a tight blazer with her hair smoothed back into a black bun, and her makeup already applied, quite the contrast to her bleary eyed daughter who stood blinking in the kitchen lights.

"Are you making pancakes?" Rebecca attached herself to Mrs. Nurse's middle and did her best begging-dog impression. Mrs. Nurse grinned before detaching herself and pulling out a box of cereal from the nearby cabinet. Rebecca's face fell and she took the box grudgingly to her place at the plastic fold-out table, her nose wrinkled in distaste. The kitchen was directly connected to the entry way and living room, all of which were scarcely decorated. There were hardly any flowers or framed pictures in the Nurses' home, let alone expensive furniture or oriental rugs. It almost appeared to be barren and unlived in. The kitchen was only decorated with a plastic table and set of metal chairs, and the living room contained nothing but a worn couch and several homemade bookshelves. There was nothing pretentious or wealthy in the small cottage among mansions.

"I'm going to work at noon today, so you'd better start school now if you want to be finished before I leave," Mrs. Nurse called as she brought over a bowl, spoon, and carton of milk. Rebecca nodded and began to pour her cereal, her heart laden with terrifying thoughts of pre-algebra and botany. Rebecca was homeschooled despite the fact that her mother worked part time and her father full time. Mrs. Nurse spent her mornings schooling her daughter in grammar, literature, science, math, art, history, and a variety of extracurricular activities. Mrs. Nurse had been raised in a purely military family, hence her adherence to discipline and self-improvement; her daughter's education was no exception.

After the milk had been successfully drained and the cereal wolfed down, Rebecca dragged her history book off its shelf and started at "Chapter Twenty-Seven: Martin Luther and the Reformation." After about twenty minutes of reading and making notes Rebecca shut the book and pushed it towards the end of the table.

"Mom, I'm done."

"Done with what?" a masculine voice emanated from the hallway and was revealed to belong to a tall dark man in an impeccable business suit. Mr. Nurse walked into the kitchen and gave his wife a gentle good morning kiss before turning to his daughter.

"Reading my history. I'm learning about the Protestant Reformation," Rebecca piped. She was grinning from ear to ear, as she was inclined to do when she talked about anything that interested her.

"Good job sweetheart," Mr. Nurse patted his daughter's shoulder affectionately and then grabbed his coffee cup. Mr. Nurse was extremely proud of his daughter and had good reason to be; Rebecca had skipped two grades and was now in the advanced seventh grade. Her scores were far beyond the average and she had a love for learning that reminded Mr. Nurse strongly of himself. Mr. Nurse worked in a law firm in downtown Bamberg, taking on the image and burden of righteous law. A veritable _Atticus Finch_ Mr. Nurse sought to free the innocent and imprison those he deemed threats to society; unfortunately this approach to a career as an attorney had proved to be highly unprofitable.

"Alright, are you ready for your quiz?" Mrs. Nurse pulled down a thin quiz booklet from the shelf and leafed through the white pages.

"I think so." Rebecca sat up in her seat, her face drawn in a child-like reverence, hands clasped in her lap. Mr. Nurse smirked as he downed his coffee.

A string of questions was asked and Rebecca answered to the best of her ability.

"Two wrong out of twenty-five," Mrs. Nurse said, taking a red pen and making marks in the book. "Not bad, but review where Martin Luther hid in his time of exile and when he was born."

Rebecca cursed under her breath as she drew her history book back towards her and reread the material. Every subject was taught and done like this; Rebecca read her chapter and was then quizzed on what she remembered. Essays and projects were due each Friday and her mother would sternly grade each assignment. Tests were usually every two weeks.

"And after you're done, go get dressed. You might be homeschooled but I do not appreciate my daughter walking around in _Spiderman_ pajamas," Mrs. Nurse admonished as she sipped her coffee. Rebecca slid grumbling off her chair and raced up the stairs to shed her _Spiderman _pajamas. After she pulled on a pair of jeans and an _X-Men _t-shirt, Rebecca stood in front of her mirror which hung against her bedroom door. She sighed at her reflection, not even eleven years old and already entering into the female realm of physical self-deprecating. Large brown eyes were surrounded by tanned skin, on a face that still contained its baby like features. Her hair was indomitably flat and mouse-colored, with no curl or wave to be seen, and her teeth were in desperate need of braces. Rebecca returned to the kitchen thoroughly depressed and annoyed with her lot in life. Pre-algebra did not help the situation.

"Rebecca," Mr. Nurse called from the entry way. "You have a letter."

Rebecca excitedly pushed the book about _X's _and _Y's_ away and rushed to her father. He stood precariously on the edge of leaving the house, briefcase in one hand and the brown envelope in the other.

Rebecca snatched the letter out of her father's hand and eagerly turned it over in her hands, happy for any excuse not to be doing math.

"Have a nice day sweetheart." Mr. Nurse stepped out into the morning air and shut the door behind him. Rebecca half murmured a response as she frowned at the envelope.

_How did the mail deliver something addressed like this? _She wondered, brow furrowed. What was even more disturbing was the return address. **Lake Superior School of Sorcery** was all that occupied the upper left corner of the envelope. There were no stamps and a wax seal held the letter together. Rebecca carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a thick set of papers.

"What's that?" her mother entered the hallway and raised her eyebrows at the strange assortment of papers in her daughter's possession.

"A letter from a school. It's addressed to me."

Mrs. Nurse sighed and did not attempt to take the papers away. Rebecca had been in regular school all the way till second grade; and that was when mysterious things had started to happen. Boys that had picked on her crooked teeth had ended up with no teeth the next day only to have them grow back; teachers who admonished her in front of the class were surprised to find tarantulas in their purses; girls who gossiped about her lost their voices for months on end. Each time Rebecca complained about an annoyance at school a supernatural event seemed to follow it. The Nurses were in no way superstitious, but even the most level headed scientist can see an improbable string of events forming an established trend of data.

"Just don't write them back and don't send them your personal information," Mrs. Nurse warned and retreated back to the kitchen. Rebecca nodded and turned to face the trash can, ready to throw away the piece of advertisement. Her hand lingered over the waste bucket, the papers still clutched between her small fingers. But something about the oddly shaped wax seal made Rebecca curious. She stuffed the letter into her pocket as surreptitiously as possible and made her way back to the kitchen.

The rest of the morning was passed among adjective clauses, Albrecht Dürer, the classification of plants, and Emily Dickinson.

At twelve o'clock sharp her mother pulled out of the driveway in the gray BMW. Rebecca stood with her nose almost pressed to the window, hands clutched behind her back in anxiety. As soon as the roar of the engine faded Rebecca pulled the crumpled paper out of her pocket. She settled on the faded couch and smoothed out the first letter.

_Dear Miss Nurse,_

_We have reviewed your history and would be happy to accept you as a student at __**Lake Superior School of Sorcery **__beginning this fall. Enclosed is your itinerary, reading list, schedule, and guide information. As you are Muggle-born, a special ambassador from the school will come to assist you on your eleventh birthday. Please do not be alarmed, and we look forward to seeing you this school year._

_Sincerely, _

_Vice Principal Robin_

Rebecca turned the paper over and huffed when there was no more writing. She retrieved her dictionary from the rows of shelves and searched for 'Muggle-born.' No such word existed in the English language.

Frowning, Rebecca pulled the envelope out again and turned it upside down. To her surprise a large packet of paper fell onto the floor, one that most definitely was not there previously. She picked up the stack of papers and read the first page.

_Student Books and Course Material_

_"__Martial Magic for Beginners" by Mark Twain_

_"__Aztec, Native American, and Voodoo vs. Hecatean: Primeval Magic vs. Classical Greek Theory" by Nathaniel Prynne_

_"__Potions and Alchemy, year one" by Severus Snape_

_"__Elementary Charms" by Felix Robin_

_"__Basic Transfiguration" by Minerva McGonagall_

_"__Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" by Newt Scamander_

"That's funny. I didn't know Mark Twain wrote a book called _Martial Magic_," Rebecca murmured. The rest of the papers were filled with as much nonsense as the first two. She carried the papers to her room and tossed them unceremoniously onto her bed. Rebecca's room was just as undecorated as the rest of the house. A twin bed was pushed into one corner with an old school desk in the other and a bookshelf in the middle. One poster hung reverently on her wall, a map of C.S. Lewis's _Narnia. _Her small bookshelf was littered with such fantasy titles as _The Lord of the Rings, Ender's Game, Inkheart, Discworld, _and _Grimm's Fairy Tales _along with her Marvel comic books_. _This was the shelf of a girl who longed for fantasy and adventure in a world so unbearably void of them.

…

Or so she thought. 

**Notes: Rebecca in the story is homeschooled because I am homeschooled and I would be remiss if I attempted to create a culture I knew nothing about. The book title ****_"Aztec, Native American, and Voodoo vs. Hecatean: Primeval Magic vs. Classical Greek Theory" _****requires some explaining. Hecate was the Greek goddess of magic and I assume everyone here knows what Voodoo is. I decided that Hecate should be the magic version of Euclid in that she might've been the first to establish an orthodox magic, while as Native American and Aztec tribes would have created their own offshoot of wild, unruly sorcery. Both would be taught at an American school ****J****Atticus Finch is a lawyer in a classic book ****_"To Kill a Mockingbird."_**** I strongly recommend it. **

**Susan sebest: Thanks for your review! Hope you like this. **

**Okie98: I didn't know you had a account. :D**

** : Thanks for your criticism! I tried to make the sentences shorter and be a little more descriptive. I'll keep trying to improve my style. **


	3. Chapter 3: The Stranger at the Door

**Disclaimer: This is a parody and nonprofit story based in the fictional universe of Harry Potter. All rights belong to Joanne K. Rowling. **

Chapter Three: The Stranger at the Door

Rebecca stared intently at the worn and yellowed pages of _Arthur Rex,_ a flashlight in one hand, her body stiff in her bed. Every now and again she would glance furtively out the window, waiting for the sun to rise and shed light through her window. She tapped impatiently on the window sill, her interest in the book all but forgotten.

"Surely it's almost morning," she murmured and dropped the book with a THUMP onto the floor. She had read it about five times through anyway, and the tales of Merlin and Arthur could only be retold so many times, despite what the English had to say about it.

Rebecca stood and paced her room, tiny feet scuffling the threadbare carpet as she wished she owned a clock. After five minutes she flung herself dramatically over her bed with all the Shakespearean drama a ten year-old can muster.

"Is my birthday ever going to get here?" she begged the universe. The universe was probably busy, as it didn't answer.

After lying dejectedly on the bed like the slain Caesar she stood and slouched to her diminutive school desk. She pulled out from underneath her stack of papers the school's advertisement and allowed her eyes to travel the mystery that had plagued her for almost a month. One page read;

_Supernatural Literature_

_A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain_

_A History of the Kings of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth_

_Beowulf_

_The Tales of Beedle the Bard by Beedle the Bard_

_Heinrich Heine: Assorted Poems_

_Macbeth by William Shakespeare_

The items on the reading list all appeared to be normal books by prestigious authors. Other than the mysterious Beedle, Rebecca could find all of the above authors in her parent's rather extensive book collection. The student material's sheet was another matter. She pulled the page out and puzzled over it for the hundredth time.

_One wand_

_Standard pewter cauldron_

_Black robes, must reach beneath the knees_

Rebecca rolled her eyes at this, simply because every school had a similar dress code rule, and by the second day of term, just about everyone in the school had already broken it.

_Swimsuit_

_Star map_

The list went on, half of the objects unknown and obscure to Rebecca's eyes. She stacked the papers precisely and returned to pacing, confident in her assumption that the papers were a prank. She stopped in front of her mirror and examined her face dolefully, imagining a person standing next to her. Sadly the space next to her was noticeably empty. Rebecca had not had the privilege of friends since the fateful second grade year, when everything had gone awry. Her teeth and superhero shirts were an interminable source for bullying, not to mention her position as the teacher's pet. If that didn't make matters worse the people who Rebecca hated the most had a way of getting what they deserved, in the most peculiar ways. Her only companion since that year was a plush dragon which sat like a solemn guardian on her desk, one eye missing. But even it could not play checkers or hide and seek.

Rebecca patted the dragon's soft head before resigning herself to sleep. She pulled back the covers, settled into her favorite position, and switched off her flashlight. She closed her eyes and adamantly resolved to sleep the rest of the night.

DING.

As the doorbell rang, Rebecca leapt out of bed and threw open her bedroom door. She thumped down the stairs and raced to the front door, heart pounding. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the cold metal doorknob, wondering for one brief moment if she should call her parents. But it was too late. Curiosity had already forced her to turn the handle and the door swung inward.

Rebecca gasped and stumbled backwards, suddenly wishing she'd taken her parent's advice on not letting in strangers. A figure stood in the dark, covered in a black cloak that hid its entire body; a hood was pulled down menacingly over its face, so that Rebecca could not tell if the apparition was male or female. It looked like a villain straight out of a fairy tale. The kind that lived in gingerbread houses and cooked children.

"Sorry dear, it was raining in DC. I didn't mean to frighten you." The figure tossed back her hood and stepped into the hall, revealing the most beautiful face Rebecca had ever seen. The woman, for it was most definitely a woman, had large startling blue eyes accompanied with the palest skin. Her hair was as black as a raven's feathers, and it fell in a thick current all the way down her back. Her features were delicate, like a porcelain doll had been brought to life.

"My name is Morgana Ruthar, and I'm a Muggle ambassador from Lake Superior. Are your parents awake?" Morgana's voice had a singsong quality to it, like a bird chirping.

"Uh… no," Rebecca stuttered. It dawned on her that letting strangers into the house from mysterious schools was perhaps not the best thing she had done all night.

"Good, I'm glad it's just the two of us then. Hot chocolate?" Morgana reached into the depth of her cloak and pulled out a paper cup with a lid.

_How did she do that? _Rebecca marveled, suddenly curious as to what else could be hiding in the black article of clothing. She reached out for the cup and gingerly took it from Morgana's hand. She did not raise the steaming liquid to her lips, suddenly recalling her lesson on taking food from strangers.

There was an awkward silence, where Rebecca merely stared and Morgana smiled amicably.

After several moments, Morgana asked; "Aren't you going to invite me to sit down? I can't very well talk to you in the hallway." Without waiting for a reply Morgana pushed her way past the girl and made her way to the old couch. She seated herself like a princess, with one ankle tucked behind the other and her hands resting delicately on her knee.

Rebecca followed, her initial shock wearing off and being replaced by curiosity. She seated herself on the floor opposite Morgana and eyed her warily, like a deer might look at a man.

"WhatistheLakeSuperiorSchoolofSorcery?" she blurted out.

Morgana smiled and pulled out a well crafted, polished stick from her pocket.

"It's what you just said. It's a school for those who wish to study sorcery."

"Magic doesn't exist," Rebecca said forlornly. There was no accusation in her voice, only melancholy.

"Are you so sure?" Morgana raised her stick delicately and waved it. The cup in Rebecca's hand transformed into a rabbit. Rebecca squealed in fright and happiness as she scooped up the floppy-eared creature and cuddled it. She looked from the rabbit to Morgana and back, her eyes wide with excitement.

"I knew it. I always knew!" Rebecca squeezed the bunny happily and jumped to her feet. "Are you a witch? Am I a witch? Is that why you're here? When can I go to school? How am I going to pay for tuition and books?"

"One question at a time," Morgana raised her hand and chuckled. "But yes, you are a witch. A very talented one from what I've seen of your file. When you go to school you'll learn to control and harness your magic."

"Can we go to school now? Can you show me more magic? What classes will I take?" Rebecca was speaking at an alarming rate, and the animal in her arms was squirming in an attempt to escape.

Morgana chuckled as she pulled out an envelope identical to the one Rebecca had upstairs.

"Term doesn't start till September I'm afraid, and today is May 25th. Somebody's birthday, if I recall," Morgana winked. She handed the envelope to the girl and watched as she ripped it open. "There's a list of your classes in there as well as your schedule and a map of the grounds."

Rebecca looked down at her list of classes with renewed vigor. She had gone over the paper many times, but seeing it as real cast a whole new light on what she had previously seen as nonsense.

_First Year Classes_

_Martial Magic_

_American Antediluvian Charms_

_Hecatean Charms_

_Potions and Alchemy_

_Herbological Agriculture_

_Basic Arithmancy_

_Transfiguration_

_Magizoology_

_Potions and Alchemy_

_Arcane Literature_

_History of Magic_

"This is all amazing." Rebecca ran her finger across the paper, marveling at the subjects. "But how do I know if I'm a witch or not?" Rebecca felt a creeping sensation of horror. She looked up at Morgana, begging her to prove that she belonged in the mysterious school.

"Has anything ever happened to you or another person when you were angry? Or frightened?"

"Well, John lost all his teeth when he punched me in the stomach. Does that count?"

Morgana laughed.

"Yes, it most certainly counts. I have a feeling you'll have a proclivity for martial magic. Would you like to have your birthday present now?"

"You got me a present?" Rebecca sat next to the woman, all warnings of 'don't take things from strangers' completely forgotten.

"Of course. I always get my Muggle students presents." Morgana pulled out a hastily wrapped package and handed it to the girl. Rebecca tore at the package to reveal a strange assortment of candies she had never seen before. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes, all littered the bottom of the box.

"These are the most fun." Morgana extracted the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "I dare you to try the brown one."

"REBECCA MARY NURSE, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Both culprits turned and grinned sheepishly at the two disheveled parents that stood menacingly by the stairs.

"I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Nurse, but I am a witch and I'm here to take your daughter to school."

**Notes: Ok, now we're getting somewhere. Not really too much to say about this chapter. I'll try to update at least once a week, hopefully twice. If I don't update for a really long time, feel free to admonish me. **

**Susan sebest: It's scarcely decorated because they're a poor family. In the second chapter I mention that Mr. Nurse is a lawyer who doesn't make a lot of money because he's ethical and in the first chapter I say their house is impecunious. I'm sorry; I know I don't focus on the parents a lot. Thank you so much for reviewing ****J**


	4. Chapter 4: The Obstacles

**Disclaimer: This is a parody and nonprofit story based in the fictional universe of Harry Potter. All rights belong to Joanne K. Rowling. **

Chapter Four: The Obstacles

"Tell me who you are before I call the police!" Mrs. Nurse had drawn herself to her full impressive height of 5'8, and was the picture of righteous terror in her bathrobe. Mr. Nurse stood behind her, gawking at the stunningly beautiful Morgana. "What do you want? Have you fed her some sort of drug? WHERE DID THAT BUNNY COME FROM?!"

"Mrs. Nurse, I beg you to calm down so that we can all talk about this like adults. I assure you, I mean your daughter or your household no harm. I rang the doorbell and Rebecca here was kind enough to let me in." Morgana stood and raised her hands in a sign of peace. "I am an ambassador from a very prestigious school that deals with very gifted people like your daughter."

"There's nothing special about her." Mrs. Nurse's voice suddenly became high, like she wasn't getting enough oxygen. Her normally calm face was red with anxiety and fear. Mr. Nurse continued to stare like an inanimate doll.

"I think we both know that's not true." Morgana smirked. "Edith Nurse, do you honestly believe all that happened at her previous school was merely coincidence? Haven't you noticed strange things happening around Rebecca from the day she turned seven?"

Edith Nurse opened her mouth to retort, but all she could do was stutter. She looked from Rebecca to Morgana and then to Mr. Nurse. Finally she sputtered; "You have no proof that Rebecca is strange, and I have no intentions of handing her over to an institution that sends women knocking at an ungodly time of night! Now, stay right there while I call the authorities. David, restrain her if you have to."

Morgana shrugged.

"I have no intention of going anywhere."

Edith scoffed as she pulled out her iPhone from the billowing pockets of her bathrobe. She raised it to her face and began to dial.

_POP!_

The iPhone was replaced with a large chocolate bar. Edith Nurse's jaw fell open and stayed that way.

"Now would you be willing to talk like civilized human beings?" Morgana's voice was cloyingly persuasive as she motioned for the parents to sit. They did so in a trance, their movements mechanical as if they were shell-shocked. Rebecca let out a soft giggle as she moved to sit between them, bunny in hand.

Morgana stood in front of the family, smoothing out her cloak as she cleared her throat.

"Now, shall we start again? My name is Morgana Ruthar and I am a Muggle ambassador from the Lake Superior School of Sorcery. Your daughter is a witch, a human blessed with supernatural powers, and we at the school see it as our duty to train and teach young witches and wizards such as her. Do you follow?"

The two Nurse parents exchanged a look and then continued to gawk at the ambassador. Morgan sighed.

"Fortunately for you Muggle-borns who come from monetarily challenged families get in free."

"We're not monetarily challenged!" David Nurse had finally broken away from his catatonic state.

"Of course not, you keep the cracks and stains in the walls to make it look authentic." Morgana rolled her eyes and waved her wand impatiently. The soiled and cracked walls were suddenly solid, smooth, and eye-blindingly clean. Rebecca grinned and clapped as her parents blinked in disbelief.

"Now, her school supplies are another matter. There is a dollar/galleon exchange rate, so don't fear, but you will have to purchase her robes and several other essentials. I was hoping to do that today if possible, seeing as neither of you planned anything for her birthday."

David looked down at the floor sheepishly while Edith opened her mouth to protest, but abruptly closed it. She too seemed focused on an irrelevant spot on the wall.

Rebecca's face fell as she looked at the floor, trying her best not to look disappointed.

_It doesn't matter, I don't care. Birthdays don't matter. Not when I'm going to a wizard school. _

"Now, the primary problem that most parents have with our school is that it is a boarding school. Your child will be with us from September until the first of May, with only a one week Christmas break. However, I can assure you that letters can be exchanged constantly and if need be you can arrange a visit to the school grounds. Ultimately it is Rebecca's decision–"

"Excuse me?" Edith spoke barely above a whisper, her eyes still trained on the wall. "It's Rebecca's choice, is it? An eleven year old?"  
"Yes, as a member of magical society she has the right to say whether or not she wishes to receive education. It is in the imperative that she does of course, otherwise it could be disa–"

"No." Edith Nurse stated emphatically. "You do not enter my house, desecrate my belongings, insult my wealth, and then say that my daughter can just leave whenever she feels like it."

"According to the International Wizarding Statutes, she can. Not only that, but I don't think you realize what a boon this would be to your household. Your daughter would receive an education absolutely free of charge, she would receive free meals and free boarding; not only that, but she would have the skills to make you and your husband very comfortable for the rest of your life. Please, I do not want your daughter to leave without your consent, but if that's what she chooses, I will have no choice."

"How dare you–"

"MOM!"

As Rebecca yelled, the light bulb overhead exploded, leaving the four humans in darkness. Edith screamed in fright

"_Lumos," _Morgana whispered and a light appeared over the living room, illuminating the stoic face of Rebecca. "Do you see now? She needs to be tau–"

"Be quiet everyone!" Rebecca stood and pointed an accusing finger at her mother. "I need help, mom. I need to learn how to control what I have, or else people might get hurt. I'm going with her tonight whether you like it or not. I'm sorry."

Rebecca turned her back on her parents and marched to Morgana's side, grabbing hold of her hand.

"Young lady, I will–"

"Edith, for once in your life, let me talk."

Every eye turned to Mr. David Nurse in shock. He pushed himself to his feet and turned on his wife, hands clenched by his sides.

"We both know there's something wrong with our daughter. If there are people out there willing to help her, for free no less, I have no objection." His voice was so adamant Edith could only stare in wonder. David grasped his daughter's left hand. "Last chance sweetheart."

Edith gaped at her husband, for the hundredth time that night at a loss for words. Finally, her gaze turned from David to her daughter, who stood in the middle of the two adults, her lip quivering.

"It appears as if I've been outvoted," she murmured and slowly rose, her cheeks lined with tears. "Where in this world are you going to take us now?" she demanded, facing the ambassador. Morgana smiled and pulled out a rather large overcoat button.

"nd Street, the Smithsonian. If everybody could grab onto this button for me."

**Notes: Obviously updating is more important to me than having chapters of considerable length. Expect them to be in between 900 t0 2,000 words ****J****I know up until now it's been a bit dull, but the next chapter is where it starts to get exciting and we really delve into the American Wizarding world. Expect chain restaurants, Wizards of Wal-Mart, and oddly made wands! **

**Okie98: Yeah, I like HP fanfictions too. Not to worry about the time period, it's set in about 2010. I've been meaning to slip the date in there somewhere… Thanks for liking it! **


	5. Chapter 5: InfinityNd Street

**Disclaimer: This is a parody and nonprofit story based in the fictional universe of Harry Potter. All rights belong to Joanne K. Rowling. Please review and subscribe ****J**

Rebecca nearly screamed as the world fell away in a blinding flash of light and disorientation. She no longer knew which way was up or down or left or right, she only knew that that moment was both the shortest and longest moment of her life.

Her feet hit hard ground, causing her to stumble onto her face, to be met with a mouthful of grass. From the sounds of curse words, she assumed her parents had face-planted as well.

"Where are we?" she murmured, struggling to her feet. The sun was starting to rise, slowly but surely, and it illuminated She turned to face Morgana; as she did so her eyes grew as big as saucers and she nearly squealed in delight. Directly in front of her was a red brick castle, with turrets and towers on all four corners. It looked like something that had walked out of a fairy tale.

"We're in Smithsonian Park, Washington D.C., and that–" Morgana pointed to the castle, "is the entrance way to Infinitysecond Street. But you Muggles call it the Smithsonian Institution Building. Come on, no time for sightseeing. Maybe later today."

"We can't bloody well go into the Smithsonian castle with our bathrobes on!" Edith stood, rumpled and indignant. Rebecca glanced down at her own body and was shocked to see that she was still wearing her ancient _Spider-Man_ pajamas.

Morgana frowned as she surveyed the disheveled family, grass in their hair and morning drowsiness still clinging to their eyes.

"Terribly sorry, this happens all too often. I get carried away with myself and leave before everyone is ready." Morgana clicked her tongue reprovingly as she dug into the depths of her robe. Rebecca couldn't help but wonder if the object was interminable.

"Ah! Here we are!" Morgana pulled out two, long navy blue cloaks and thrust them at the parents. "Just keep those closely tied around you and no one will know the difference. As for you, you little super hero," Morgana said, turning her attention to Rebecca. "We'll buy you some robes in a minute."

The four made their way through a garden to the front door of the modern castle, their footsteps the only sound echoing through the silent courtyard. The castle was dark and sinister looking in the damp morning rays, its windows taking the form of disapproving eyes following the four trespassers.

As Morgana reached the door she withdrew her wand from her robes, and tapped the lock gently, whispering; "_Alohomora." _There was a soft click, and the doors swung open to reveal a huge, unlighted hall. Morgana marched into the blackness with confidence while the three Muggles stumbled behind her.

"_Lumos," _the ambassador whispered, and a ball of blue light illuminated a small door, neatly tucked away in a corner, where no sane architect would ever put it. Rebecca frowned at it, as it in no way blended in or complemented the wall around it. It was pitch black, and there was no doorknob, only an infinity symbol at the top and what looked like a very old keyboard, like the kind on typewriters. The round buttons were suspended in the wood of the door, facing outwards like nails stuck in a wall.

"Can you see this door and the typewriter?" Morgana brushed her hand against the infinity symbol. Rebecca nodded and reached up to touch the keys.

"What are you two going on about? I don't see anything," Edith snapped, her nose upturned. She was out of bed at five in the morning, with no makeup, no pantsuit, and her hair hadn't been styled. She had a right to be short tempered.

"The door can only be seen by wizards and witches. It helps stop people from just stumbling in. Here, let me type in the code."

"What's the code?" David stepped forward and squinted at what to him was just a stretch of wall.

"**Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."** Morgana began thumbing buttons, her forehead wrinkled in concentration.** "**The password changes every hundred years."

"What? How would you even begin to spell that?" Edith spat.

"Oxford English Dictionary is very helpful. There we go." There was a final click and the door melted like ice. "Step inside."

"Step inside where? I still don't see anything," Edith huffed.

Rebecca ignored her mother and bounded into the doorway to encounter a spiraling, stone staircase that most definitely led down. It was lit with candles every few steps and it reminded Rebecca very strongly of the steps to a torture chamber. She waited at the edge, biting her lip in slight fear of the unknown. As she took a step backwards, a hand slid into her own. She glanced upward to find the smiling eyes of her father.

"You'll have to lead me sweetheart." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and Rebecca took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and plunged into the inky eerie stairwell, dragging her father along.

"Would you like me to hold your hand?" Morgana smirked as she trotted after them. Edith snorted and followed, arms crossed over her chest, eyes fixed in a skeptical glare.

The staircase seemed to go on forever. It was narrow and the steps were thin, so that if a person did not pay attention, a concussion was in their near future.

After several minutes Rebecca stopped in front of yet another door, this one identical to the one above in every way.

"Pass code?" David turned and addressed the ambassador.

"Maria Von Trapp."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. Apparently the head of United States Wizard Secrecy Department is an avid fan of Dame Andrews, and he is the one who gets to make the passwords."

David Nurse rolled his eyes as his daughter dutifully punched in the different letters, her hand trembling from excitement. The door melted and Rebecca burst through it, leaving the three adults behind in her alacrity.

She jumped into a world of light, and for several moments she could only blink as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. When they did she squealed in delight, and almost forgot that she was standing in the middle of a street with her pajamas on.

She was surrounded on every side by curvy, redbrick stores and houses. They were bent in odd shapes and curved in places that were reminiscent of Dr. Seuss. The road curved in a circular angle, unlike the traditional straight roads of South Carolina. The ceiling had been enchanted to look like a giant map that hung over the city, with each store's name marked in a glowing gold. From the ground Rebecca could see that the street twisted and turned into the shape of an infinity symbol.

She turned and glanced at the different stores and wondered at the mysterious names. _Macbeth's Robewear, Tom's Tome Store, Thingamajig Toy Emporium, Wal-Mart…_

"Wal-Mart?" Rebecca tilted her head and scrunched her nose, not entirely sure if she'd read the sign correctly.

"Wal-Mart is everywhere." Morgana had stepped through onto the narrow street, and placed a hand on Rebecca's shoulder, steering her towards Macbeth's Robewear. "Let's get you out of those ridiculous pjs, shall we?"

"Wait!" Edith's shrill voice followed them. The duo turned to face the couple, who had also bumbled their way onto the street. "We didn't bring our wallets. How on earth are we to pay for this?"

"Not a problem. I have school credit and you can pay me back when I return you. Come along now."

Rebecca skipped to the store with the strange outfits in the window display but stopped short of the door. Where a number should have been on the wooden entry way there was a fraction. It read 1/113th of Infinity.

"Miss Morgana, why does this house have a fraction on the door?" she inquired, reaching up to touch the brass mathematics.

"Oh for goodness's sakes, I thought you were intelligent. You can't put numbers in infinity. It doesn't start anywhere and it doesn't end anywhere. So we use fractions of infinity instead. There are 113 stores on this street, and this is the first store, so it's 1/113th. It would be stupid to put numbers like 1, since 1 begins while infinity doesn't, it just goes."

"I'm not sure that's proper math," Rebecca's voice sounded dubious as she tried to work out the ends and outs of what Morgana had just described.

"No, but it is proper Arithmancy."

"Sure, but doesn't giving something a fraction indicate that it starts and ends somewhere?"

"Just get in the store already, we're running behind as it is." Morgana sounded slightly miffed.

Rebecca opened the door and grinned stupidly at the amazing array of colors and shapes. It was set up like most other clothes stores, with male clothes on the left and female clothes on the right, each separated by age group. But the clothes were so remarkably varied and fascinating that they boggled Rebecca's mind. The seemed to come in matching sets; a pair of pants, a shirt, and a cloak all in one. The odd thing was that the colors and the style matched. If you had a pair of denim jeans, in the same set there was sure to be a denim shirt and a denim cloak. If you had a plaid shirt there was sure to be a plaid cloak and plaid pants. It was the oddest and possibly strangest type of fashion Rebecca had ever seen, and it was atrocious enough to make Edith faint.

"Come on now, you'll be in the kid's _used _school section. They get donations here all the time, I'm sure there's something that'll fit you that isn't too old." Morgana gestured away from the nicely tailored outfits to what looked like a disorganized pile of ratty cloth. "Why don't you look through it while your parents and I discuss prices?"

Rebecca nodded a little glumly and strolled over to the ancient clothes. There was, upon closer inspection, a strange assortment of different children's clothes. White blouses and collared shirts were abundant, as were black skirts and pants. The amount of black cloaks was numerous. Occasionally however, there would be what looked like a letterman's jacket or a pink hat would present itself. Finally, Rebecca pulled out something that was mysteriously different from anything else in the drab pile. It was a leather trench coat, with a hood, sleeves, and pockets that were bigger on the inside. Rebecca slid it on experimentally and squealed when the fabric shrunk to her exact size.

"Ah, I see you've found an old Fire Coat. Those used to be popular in my day," Morgana was leaning against the wall now, nodding in approval. "All the rage back then. Could put anything in those pockets. Fireproof _and_ waterproof, not to mention they'll shrink or grow to the wearer."

"If they're so useful, why aren't they in style any longer? And why would someone want to give it away?" Rebecca stuck her arm in her pocket, testing her far it would go. Only once her elbow was inside did she feel the bottom of the pocket.

"Oh, they haven't, the company got too big for its britches and started making cheaper products in an effort to make more money. It worked, and the original cloak is so rare you can hardly find one. I suspect the person who threw this one away was an idiot." Morgana sneered and then bent down to pick up a white blouse. "This looks about your size. What do you think?"

Ten minutes later, Rebecca walked out of Macbeth's Robewear wearing a black skirt, white blouse, and a fire coat. Morgana had said she looked the angelic picture of sophistication. Her mother had said she looked ridiculous.

"Books. Books are the most important thing you can have as a Muggle-born in wizard society."

The four were marched into _Tom's Tome Store_ just down the street and entered into a veritable labyrinth of immeasurably high bookshelves that were dizzyingly free of dust. In fact they were the shiniest, cleanest bookshelves imaginable. They were also unending.

"We're looking for the school and research book section. Must be around here somewhere!" Morgana's ever cheerful voice called from a distance. Rebecca vaguely heard the groans of her parents as they shuffled through the store.

"Where's the counter to pay?" her father asked.

"Not to worry, they won't let you leave without paying."

After an hour the four finally found each other in the "Pre-History Cookery" section, which only contained one book on the shelf.

_One book does not a genre make, _Rebecca thought skeptically as she surveyed the lonely paperback.

"Right then, it appears you lot have gathered everything." Morgana grinned running her fingers across the piles of books each Nurse held. "And I have something special for you. Another birthday present."

Morgana held out a graphic novel with the words, "The Misadventures of Sir Cadogan" printed on the front.

"This is also insanely popular among young people now. It's a comic book based on a real knight. Have a look inside."

Rebecca dutifully put down her stack of books and opened the book eagerly. She squeaked in glee and nearly dropped the heavy anthology.

"Mom, Dad! The pictures are _moving!" _

The books were purchased and safely tucked under David Nurse's arm. The shopkeeper had been a peculiar man, wearing a fuzzy brown suit, which made him look suspiciously like a bear.

"Now, the most important part of wizardry." Morgan practically skipped towards a gloomy, dark building. It looked significantly older than every other store, its English Tudor-look distinguishing it from its red counterparts. The sign over the door proved it; _America's First Wand's and Staff's Store, est. 1783. _

**Notes: I love Julie Andrews and I apologize for nothing. **

**The Smithsonian Institution building is actually in the shape of a castle. I've never been there, so I couldn't properly describe it. What I put above is just what I've seen in pictures. **

**This chapter is abrupt, because as I said, I prefer updating quickly to long chapters. **

**Wal-Mart is everywhere, don't try to deny it, and you know that if a big time corporation knew that there was yet another demographic to exploit, they would. There will be more explanations for comic books, chain stores, and more "Muggle" artifacts next chapter. **

**Guest Reviewer: Thanks ****J****Hope you like this one. **


	6. Chapter 6: The Dagger Wand

**Disclaimer: This is a parody and nonprofit story based in the fictional universe of Harry Potter. All rights belong to Joanne K. Rowling. Please review and subscribe ****J**

"Go on in. It's best if you go in alone, wand makers tend to be very… peculiar when it comes to their wands," Morgana gave Rebecca gentle nudge. "I'll be buying your cauldron and star maps on 67/113th."

"She can't go in there alone!"

"Sweetheart, she'll be fine…"

The quarrelsome voices began to fade into the distance.

Rebecca gulped as she glanced at the ominous building. It's moldy face and blackened door did not make it look appealing in anyway. It was a redoubtable edifice, one that spoke of hidden horrors and bodies stuffed in closets.

Rebecca shuddered and glanced at the retreating backs of her protesting parents and the ambassador.

She took a deep breath, faced the shop, and charged headlong into the door, thrusting herself into the dank excuse for a store. As soon as she entered, her foot caught the welcome mat, and she went sprawling onto the hardwood floor, feet over head. A cloud of dust rose in her wake, and there was the clatter of something falling and scattering across the floor.

"For the love of – what on earth – who the?" a disgruntled voice reached Rebecca's ears, but she refused to move, too embarrassed to do anything but lay prostrate on the dusty floor.

"Get up child!" The execrable tone in the voice was enough to push Rebecca to her feet.

Rebecca stood and gasped, her heart stopping mid beat. The man before her looked like a monster from a fairytale. He wore a grotesquely bright and varied robe with a pointed, bright purple hat and was round like a ball. Not just fat, but perfectly circular. He had white hair growing out his ears and nose, but none on his head. His face was so red and round it looked like a tomato.

"What do you think you were doing? Charging into a store like that. Oh stop blushing, you're almost as read as me." The man had a gruff, gravelly voice that belonged to a man much younger than him. "My name is Lupus Vir, and don't bother telling me your name, I don't want to hear it. I suspect you'll be looking for a wand. I bet you're also Muggle-born?"

Rebecca nodded, far too frightened to say anything, so she remained taciturn.

Mr. Lupus Vir sighed dramatically and rubbed his temples with both his hands.

"So, it'll be the standardized, mass-produced plastic wand for you?" Mr. Vir walked over to a grimy, black book shelf and removed a plastic box from among the piles of other identical boxes. He handed it gruffly to Rebecca and shuffled to his cherry-wood counter, apparently exasperated with life in general. Rebecca lifted the lid of the box and felt her heart fall. Inside was a mere plastic stick, purely white, with no special markings or deviation. It was uninteresting and spoke of a fake magician at a talent show. There was a little card next to the wand that read; _Warning: Only lasts one year._

"That'll be two galleons, any day now miss," Mr. Vir growled. Rebecca nodded in ascent, but gingerly picked up the pathetic piece of plastic.

BOOM!

It exploded in her hand.

Rebecca shrieked and dropped the smoking remains, scurrying to the safety of a corner.

"Mr. Vir, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…" she turned to looked at the cantankerous pantaloon, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw his face. He was grinning like a maniac.

"I knew it! I knew this day would come!" He rushed out from behind the counter and began to vigorously shake Rebecca's hand. "You're Muggle-born so you wouldn't understand, but I've longed for this day! When a witch was so powerful her magic would reject that stupid, plastic, mass-produced trash people call wands. Come, this is an artist like mine's dream. Come to the back, come! The wand is on me."

Rebecca followed the man dumbly to the back of the store, away from the identical plastic boxes. The very last shelf was so dusty and ancient looking, Rebecca was afraid it was going to either collapse under the weight of dusty or fall apart from age. Stacked neatly in rows were a variety of multi-sized, hand carven boxes, each one composed of different kinds of wood.

"About five years ago some stupid man named Magnus Cupidity invented the standardized wand, replacing great wand makers like me," Mr. Vir grumbled, running his hands over the stacks of boxes. "Now one wand fits all, no need for customization or individuality. Of course, people have been simplifying wands for years, limiting the cores and the kinds of wood… But artists like me, we never compromise. We still work, even if no one appreciates our work."

Mr. Vir tugged out a box and eagerly handed it to Rebecca, his hand shaking from anticipation.

"Ivory, 9 inches, unicorn hair."

Rebecca held opened the box and grasped the pure white piece of ivory, and admiring the delicate carvings of people and animals all along the wand. As quickly as she had taken it Mr. Vir yanked it out of her hand.

"Not right. Here, titanium, dragon's fire, 7 inches."

Rebecca's hand merely touched the box and Mr. Vir pulled it out of her grasp.

"Stupid of me, try this one. Oak, werewolf tooth, 10 inches."

This time, Rebecca's fingers merely rubbed the underside of the box and Mr. Vir was already putting it back on the shelf.

"Not good enough. For someone like you, you would need…" His eyes grew wide and he reverently pulled a box out from underneath his robe. It was a black box, and was not carved or ornate like the others. It was plain.

Rebecca carefully took the box and opened it. She gasped and lifted the strange object out of its resting place.

"Dragon scale, dragon's fire and phoenix feather, 12 ½ inches."

Rebecca could only gape at the object before her. All the other wands had been straight, rounded sticks; this one was in the shape of a slender dagger, hilt and all. It was a fiery red and the dragon scale was warm to the touch. It let off an iridescent glow.

"Wave it. See what happens." His voice was no longer hurried or exasperated; he was almost encouraging.

Rebecca waved it sharply, like an expert fencer; a jet of golden sparks left the wand's tip, exploding in a brilliant cascade above Rebecca's head.

"Amazing," Mr. Vir whispered in awe. "Absolutely amazing. What's your name?"

"I thought you said you didn't–"

"Oh trust me, I want to know your name now."

"Rebecca Nurse," she said, fingering the strange wand lovingly.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance Miss Nurse. I hope you will remember me and smile upon me fondly when you're older."

Rebecca doubted anyone except perhaps Mr. Vir's mother ever smiled upon him fondly.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, slightly befuddled. The man was smiling like a maniac, his mouth stretching his red, fatty skin unpleasantly.

"Miss Nurse, you are holding the oldest known wand in existence, made in the 6th century. Do you know what happened in the 6th century?"

"Ummm…"

"Merlin, the greatest wizard to ever walk the earth, lived his life. He helped my ancestor make this wand in secret; it is the only wand to ever successfully balance two different types of cores. Dragon fire and phoenix feather. Merlin gave it to my father and told him that the warlock who could unlock the magic within the wand would be the greatest warlock of eternity. This wand has been held by millions of wizards, but not even Albus Dumbledore was able to make it do any magic."

Rebecca backed away from the man, the wand pointed defensively.

_Definitely insane, _she thought.

"After all these years, and I'm the one to see you. I'm the one…" Mr. Vir bowed his head, forcing his hat to fall off and expose his shining head. "You could've had a more majestic name though," he added, snatching the hat off the ground. "Rebecca Nurse is not a good name for the greatest warlock of all time. I suggest you change it once you get to Lake Superior."

"You're crazy," Rebecca retorted, clutching the wand for dear life. The man was talking about her for goodness sake. Rebecca Nurse couldn't even make friends, let alone fulfill some great prophecy.

"Did I ever say I wasn't?" Mr. Vir grinned nastily. Rebecca turned on her heel and sprinted out the door, fear causing her heart to pound.

Mr. Vir frowned and looked about the room.

"Was it something I said?" he wondered.

**Notes: Yeah, plot twist! This makes it much more interesting. **

**Magnus Cupidity: Magnus = big, huge in Latin, Cupidity means greed or strong desire in English. Literally, huge greed. Can you tell I'm not the most creative person when it comes to names?**

**I never liked the idea that wands were limited to three cores and only wood. I figured there would still be 'artists' who used all sorts of different kinds of cores and casings to try and find the best match. It just makes it that much more interesting. Pottermore actually has an article about wands, I suggest you read the Queen's opinion. **

**The 6****th**** century is reportedly when King Arthur and his knights were supposed to have lived. Or at least when the historical figures that spawned the legends lived. **

**Okie98: Thanks ****J****What does it look like on the inside? I only got pictures of the exterior. **

**Susan sebest: Thanks for all your reviews, and don't worry it's about to get a lot more fun with loads more action, and arch enemies, and quodpot… I'm excited. **


	7. Chapter 7: The Plane to Lake Superior

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody based in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to Joanne K. Rowling. **

Rebecca lay in the sweltering heat of the summer sun, her thin legs spread eagled behind her in the verdant grass. Her belly was flat on the ground, _Martial Magic for Beginners _still in her grasp. Her dagger-like wand was lying next to her, its point glinting in the sun's rays. She murmured along with the words of the textbook, having read the tome no less than twice.

It was August 31st of 2010, and tomorrow her parents were going to drive her to North Carolina where she would catch a plane that would take her to the ever mysterious school. Rebecca had done nothing all summer but pour over her various textbooks and practice her magic in anticipation of September 1st. She absentmindedly pulled the chain that hung around her neck and examined the pendant that hung there.

"_That is your ticket to everything at the school. It's your identity card, how you communicate with your teachers, your cafeteria card… do not lose that pendant!"_

Morgana's words rang in Rebecca's head as she examined the strange pendant. It was in the shape of an octagon, with a picture of an eagle with wings spread on one side. On the other side, it was a black blank. She tucked the medallion back under her shirt, and returned to her textbook.

_The Tenability Spell_

_The tenability spell creates an invisible force shield which prevents Muggle objects, such as swords, bullets, etc. from harming the caster. It is the easiest of all shield spells, since it has no effect on magical spells, only Muggle artifacts. _

**_Incantation: Scutum _**

Rebecca grasped her wand and followed the motions shown in the diagram, before shouting; "SCUTUM!"

The air seemed to shiver for a moment and then go still. Rebecca grabbed a rock from the grass and tossed it forward. For some reason it stopped mid arch, and bounced back, hitting her in the head.

"Ow," she stated before returning back to the book.

_The Body-Bind Spell _

_The body-bind spell is a temporary state of paralysis. It is the most difficult spell in the entirety of this book and should not be attempted without a licensed teacher – _

_"_Petrificus Totalus!" Rebecca aimed at a harmless squirrel who was innocently devouring an acorn. It instantly froze mid-bite, and toppled onto its side.

She chuckled in that sadistic way that children often do when they are around animals. She began to flip through the pages, sighing at the spells she had already perfected. The majority of them were defensive or straight up harmless. The tongue-tying jinx, the jelly legs jinx, red sparks, blue sparks… They were all rather pathetic and not worthy of the name 'martial.' She had discovered that martial spells were by far the easiest type of magic. Charms came next, and transfiguration was the hardest and required the most concentration. She hadn't even opened her potions and alchemy textbook. It had a picture of a dissected frog on the front cover, and if that wasn't enough to deter an eleven year-old girl from reading a book, then the girl was obviously not human.

Rebecca traded _Martial Magic _for _Aztec, Voodoo, and Native American vs. Hecatean Orthodoxy. _

The spells were organized from easiest to hardest, being categorized by color. White was the easiest, yellow was slightly harder, blue was average, red was the most difficult. Each 'antediluvian American spell' had a 'Hecatean orthodox' counterpart, and vice versa. The antediluvian American spells were usually wild and had varied results; they did not require precise movements or precise words. The Hecatean spells had exact results and were almost pinpoint accurate. The antediluvian spells were much easier to master, but could be volatile. The Hecatean charms were anything but easy and, unless performed wrongly, only had one result.

_Aztec Torch Spell and the Greek Fire Spell _were listed under blue. Each produced a small flame that could be held in a glass jar like a lantern or held on the point of a stick, and produced a gentle warmth. The problem was the _Aztec Torch Spell _could sometimes be so hot it burned her skin and the _Greek Fire Spell _only had one heat setting. It was very annoying.

"Rebecca! Come inside! It's 5:30, and dinner is almost ready!" Edith's shrill voice reached Rebecca's preoccupied brain. She grudgingly gathered her books into her arms and made her way through the backyard to the backdoor. She entered the white washed, scarcely decorated house with a spring in her step. She could see her suitcase standing imperiously by the front door, like a staircase to heaven; promising a better place, if only you were brave enough to climb.

She sat down at the fold-out plastic table, placing her wand by her bowl of soup before slurping down the liquid. Edith sneered at her daughter.

"I wish you wouldn't carry that accursed thing everywhere. It's not proper for a girl to carry a knife."

"Sweetheart, it's the 21st century. There is no such thing as proper for anyone," David Nurse stepped forward and kissed his wife tenderly on the cheek. She blushed slightly and sat down hurriedly.

The family of three shared their last meal together as they always did. With David discussing world politics, Edith complaining about the American culture, and Rebecca slyly reading a book under the table.

"How much longer dad?" "Are we there yet dad?" "Can I look at the map dad?"

These were the questions emanating from the back seat of the Nurses' 1998 BMW. Rebecca was bouncing up and down in her seat, rotating from looking at her comic book to looking out the window.

"We're in North Carolina now darling. According to the GPS we should be there in five minutes."

Rebecca practically squealed and began to wring her hands together, eyes glued to the outside forest. They were on an old, cracked highway that looked in desperate need of a repair job.

"Huh, that's odd. The road just stops."

Rebecca tilted her head to look through the front window; she gaped and began to unbuckle her seatbelt before grabbing her backpack and rushing out the door.

"Rebecca! It's just a field!" Edith called thoroughly exasperated with her daughter.

Rebecca raced into the grassy field and towards what only she could see. It was a plane, but not like any plane she had ever seen in books or on TV. It was an old WWII plane, like the allies would've flown over Germany. It was bigger than the average fighter plane, but it was still only big enough to get thirty soldiers over enemy lines.

"REBECCA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Bring the suitcase dad! I've found the bus!"

As she yelled a door in the side of the plane opened and a plank extended downward to reach the grassy plateau.

Rebecca raised one foot and stepped gingerly onto the wooden plank, her heart beating madly. She took a deep breath and focused on the opening in the plane above her. She felt her father place a hand on her shoulder.

"Can you see it?" she asked, pointing towards the plane. David Nurse shook his head, his features despondent.

"I wish I could see what you see. And your mother wishes that too, she's just scared for you. But you shouldn't be scared. Ever since you were born I knew you were meant to be great." His emollient voice did not soothe Rebecca.

_Meant to be great…_ Rebecca grasped the handle of her dagger wand and gulped nervously.

"But you should know that I will be proud of you no matter what you become. And if you ever need me, I will be there in moments." Mr. Nurse bent down and gently kissed his daughter on the forehead. He handed her the handle to the miniscule suitcase and gently grasped her shoulder.

"Is mom going to say goodbye?" she asked, turning back to the car anxiously.

"She will as soon as she sees you're leaving. I love your mother, but she is one of those people who only believes what they can see. Go–"

"Oi!" a girl stood at the top of the plank, a disgruntled look on her face. "Cut the chitchat and close the door will ya? You're creating a draft."

"Stop being mean to them. He's saying goodbye to his daughter!" Another figure appeared next to the first, this one far more sympathetic looking. "Do you need help with that suitcase?"

"Rebecca, where are those voices coming from?" David frowned in the general direction of the two older girls as they giggled mischievously. The second girl descended the plank and grasped the suitcase.

David yelped as it appeared to him as if a sixteen year old had simply popped up out of thin air. She grinned and winked at Rebecca as she hoisted the suitcase onto her shoulders.

"Muggle-born, right? Come with me, I'll show you around." The older girl gave Rebecca a roguish smile and began marching up the plank. Rebecca gave her father a wave and scurried after her, Fire coat flapping behind her.

When she entered the plane Rebecca tried not to look impressed, but it was extremely hard. On the outside the plane might've looked small, but on the inside it was at least big enough to seat two hundred people. There was an expensive oriental red and gold rug that spread all over the floor, the walls were decorated with golden eagles, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling every ten yards. Oak tables were set up with two booths facing inward with enough room to sit three people on a booth at a time. It was the most lavish interior Rebecca had ever seen.

Children were already filling the seats, talking and yelling, throwing gum at one another and generally doing what all children are prone to do without adult supervision.

"Come on, you can sit with me and my friend," the girl said, guiding Rebecca to an empty booth. Rebecca sat down and got good look at the older girl. She was, Rebecca decided, the most forgettable person she had ever seen. She wasn't ugly or stunningly beautiful she was just plain. So plain and normal you could forget her face after looking away for a few seconds. She had long brown hair that was tied into a braid and had beads hanging off of it, like some Native American out of a film. Her skin was dark, but her eyes were a bright blue. She wore wizard's clothing, but a baseball cap was firmly situated on her head. _She probably wears those to make people remember her, _Rebecca thought sadly.

"I'm Rogue Vir." The girl said, extending her dirty, unkempt hand. Rebecca took it cautiously, mentally cursing herself for not bringing hand sanitizer.

"She's lying. Her real name is Lupa, but she hates her first name." Another girl slid into the booth next to Lupa or Anna. This one was the direct opposite of her counterpart; Rebecca suspected many people remembered her. She had short blonde hair with blue eyes and a petite figure; she was like a princess who had walked out of fairy tale. If princesses wore tie dye robes that is.

"Well you would change your name too, if you were almost named after a chronic illness," Lupa huffed.

"I'm Livia, Livia Sanctous." Livia reached out a well-manicured clean hand that Rebecca took without question. "I guess this is your first year?"

"Yes, my first year."

"Well, here's to hoping you'll be in my dorm. Bunker Hill is the best." Livia winked and handed Rebecca a stick of gum.

"Not true! Bastogne is where all the fun is at. We have the most boy to girl ratio," Lupa/Rogue snickered. Livia rolled her eyes.

"Just don't get into Gettysburg, bunch of boring kids in Gettysburg. Always following rules," Rogue laughed.

"Isn't following rules a good thing?"

"No," Rogue said.

"Yes," Livia said.

Rebecca looked from Livia to Rogue and narrowed her eyes. They were the antithesis of each other.

"How many houses are there?" she asked, chewing on the minty piece of gum.

"Five. Gettysburg, Bastogne, Bunker Hill, Omaha, and Fort Sumter," Livia said.

"Those are all US Battles. Bastogne and Omaha happened in WWII so this school has only been around since then?"

"Nah, the school has been around as long as America, they just keep changing the names of the dorms. Bastogne used to be called Bull Run." Rogue had taken out her wand and was currently trying to balance it unsuccessfully on her nose. It was bronze, unlike Livia's plastic wand which lay on the table.

There was a sound that could only be written as VROOM as the engines of the plane started.

"Sounds like we're about to take off. Didn't you need to say goodbye to your mom?" Rogue said, pulling out a box of chocolate frogs.

"I… I don't think I want to," Rebecca muttered, suddenly very interested in the seat of the booth.

"You sure? You probably won't see her until Christmas." Livia began to pull books out of her backpack and arrange them on the table.

"I'm sure. She's not all that excited about me being a witch."

Livia shrugged.

"Suit yourself. But I'm a Muggle-born too, and you should be patient with your parents. They're just trying to help you."

Livia's words fell on deaf ears. Rebecca pushed the thought of her parents far away and focused on the Chocolate Frogs that Rogue was tearing into. She was going to a new life, a new world; she didn't need burdens from the old.

**Notes: K, more of a transitional piece than anything else, but I spent all day working on it, so be thankful. **

**Susan sebest: I can't tell you how much your reviews help me ****J**

**Okie98: Who sounds familiar in this? ;) **


	8. Chapter 8: The Dorms of the School

**Disclaimer: This is a non-profit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

"Sooo… Rebecca… where are you from?" Rogue tore into a chocolate frog as she spoke, talking without covering her mouth. It was the kind of action that would've been severely punished, had Edith Nurse been on the premises.

"Bamberg, South Carolina," Rebecca replied promptly.

"Never heard of it. I'm from DC, Infinitynd Street," Rogue pronounced her address as if it were a title, like lady or queen. Livia shook her head in disgust.

"I'm from DC as well, but I'm not quite as prideful about it," Livia put in.

"What's not to be proud of? My family owns the oldest wand shop in America. We're so old, we don't even have a title. It's literally just wand shop." Rogue grinned, which seemed to be her most used expression.

"Hang on… Lupa Vir… You're not Lupus Vir's daughter, are you?" Rebecca asked, visibly cringing. Rogue nodded.

"The very same. Virs have been making wands since before the 6th century. I'm going to major in it next year and open my own shop." When Rogue talked she used so much confidence you simply wanted to believe her. She was like a charismatic politician who put all the right words in all the right places.

And then there was the ever reigning voice of logic, Livia…

"No one buys homemade wands anymore, except maybe Europeans," Livia snapped, her head buried in what appeared to be a Muggle adventure novel.

"Which makes my wands more valuable and go up in price to those who do want to buy them. It's called eco-NOM-icals in the Muggle world."

"You mean economics?" Rebecca smirked.

"LeviOsa, LeviosA." Rogue brushed off the comment with a wave of her wand. Rebecca assumed that 'Leviosa' was the wizard way of saying 'potato, patato.'

"You do know that the pronunciation of a spell is vital to its completion…" Livia began, but Rogue cut her off.

"Am I the only cool one at this entire booth? Speaking of which, Rebecca, we have to get you a new name, because you're going to an entirely new place." Rogue thumped the eleven year-old heartily on the back. "You get to start over, create a whole new image. What would you like?"

"Your father said the same thing to me." Rebecca couldn't stop the words from escaping and cursed herself. Rogue raised one eyebrow in question.

"Did he? Man is pretty strange," she shrugged. "Okay, cool names for Rebecca. What about Rascal? Maverick? Renegade?"

"… aren't those all synonyms for 'Rogue?'" Rebecca inquired. Rogue wiggled her eyebrows.

"I dunno… I guess I've always wanted to be called Lagertha."

Both Livia and Rogue raised their brows in slight amusement.

"Lagertha?" Livia questioned, putting her book down momentarily.

"Yes. She was a Viking shield-maiden and warrior. What's wrong with the name? It has historical value. " Rebecca's voice became defensive as the two sixteen year-olds chuckled amiably.

"No, it's a great name, it's cool. It's just a little… strange that's all," Rogue said kindly.

"No stranger than Lupa," Rebecca retorted.

"Touché." Rogue bowed her head in agreement. "Alright Lagertha. I brought my latest wand models. Would you like to try them out?" Rogue brought a large leather pack out of her backpack and placed it on the oak table. "I've been trying to perfect them for months now, but they're still a little edgy."

Rebecca shrugged and reached for the pouch. She delved a hand into the pouch and pulled out a straight, black stick. She waved it experimentally. As soon as the wand whistled through the air there was a POP and it transformed into a squeaky mouse. Rebecca screeched and dropped the poor animal on its head. She turned and glared at Rogue who was laughing hysterically.

"Oh gosh, look I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist." Rogue thumped Rebecca on the back as she chuckled. "Be lucky you didn't get the acromantula wand. So, what dorm do you want to get into?"

"The one that you're not in," Rebecca retorted, wiping her hands of mouse.

"All right, joking aside. Gettysburg, Bastogne, Bunker Hill, Fort Sumter, or Omaha? Which would you prefer?"

"What's the difference?"

"Well, let's just say they've sort of developed their own… cultures and rituals over the years. It wasn't on purpose but that is what happened. Originally they just segregated the students, now when you go into a dorm you're expected to live up to the expectations of your fellow dorm members." Livia said all this while still reading her book.

"Precisely what she said. You get to choose of course, which dorm you'd rather go in. But once you choose you're stuck there for the next nine years." Rogue had withdrawn a piece of paper and pencil from her backpack and had written the different names of the dorms in capital letters. "All right, Bastogne, which is my house, is where all the pranksters are, but it's also where all the business entrepreneurs are. Great business men, like me, are nurtured in Bastogne. Bunker Hill, that's where you get your nerds and your geeks who are always inventing strange things. You want to be careful when you go there, because things go BOOM very often. Fort Sumter is for daredevils, they're usually your jocks and your sports fanatics. Gettysburg is for people who are smart but aren't smart enough for Bunker Hill. They're just academics, they're not great inventors like Bunker. And then there's Omaha…" Rogue's voice suddenly became a whisper. Both Livia and Rogue exchanged a nervous glance.

"What's wrong with Omaha?"

"Nothing's wrong with Omaha per say. It's just…" Rogue was still whispering. "They're the best at Martial Magic. Seriously, all the famous Champion World Duelers have been from Omaha. They're kind of scary. Not really bullies, but if they ask you for something you best give it to them. Don't ever cross an Omaha member."

Rebecca nodded but her mind was already set on which dorm she was going to enter. She reached into her pocket and clenched the hilt of the dagger wand.

**Notes: Once again, transitional chapter. Dorms instead of houses, because hello, this is America. People get to choose their dorm because again, America, we choose what we want to be. The dorms have no official segregation but, kind of like sororities and fraternities, I figured they would eventually develop their own subcultures. More on that next time. **

**Please review! **


	9. Chapter 9: The Submarine to School

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit story set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

"Hey! First years, you might want to look out the window." Rogue jammed a thumb towards the round window as she shuffled a deck of cards. Rebecca made her way to the window and gasped. A huge blue expanse spread out beneath them, surrounded by verdant shores filled with foliage. The lake itself was so gargantuan it took Rebecca's breath away.

The plane changed course and began to point at a lower angle.

"Umm…" Rebecca pulled back from the window. "There's no runway that I can see."

"Don't be stupid, that's our runway." Livia pointed out the window and smirked.

"Wait, what?"

Turbulence shook the plane causing several first years to scream.

"He's aiming for the lake!"

"We're going to die!"

Amid the screams there were several snickers and outbursts of laughter from the older students. Rebecca looked out again and swallowed her own vomit. They were most definitely going faster and the nose of the plane was pointing downward.

Rebecca grimaced and tightened her seatbelt. She gripped the side of the booth and grit her teeth, preparing for the impact.

_I will not scream, _she thought. _I am not a child and I will not scream. _

The plane shuddered and jerked forward. Rebecca screamed.

The plane quivered to a halt and Rebecca opened her eyes cautiously. She glanced out and saw that the plane was floating, quite peacefully in the still waters.

There was a moment of absolute silence as first years and older students exchanged furtive glances. Then the older students started to laugh. They doubled over and held their stomachs and banged their hands on the table. The first years were red in the face or crying openly.

"Did you really think they were going to kill us?" Rogue guffawed. Rebecca realized her ears had turned a bright scarlet so she chose to say nothing. Instead she contented herself with sliding underneath the table to hide her shame.

"None of that now." Livia reached a pale hand under the table and pulled Rebecca next to her. "We'll be leaving soon. Look out there." Livia pointed to the still waters again. Rebecca squinted, at first seeing nothing but the vast expanse of water. But then she saw it. A dark shape rising from the depths of the water, steadily growing bigger.

"What… what is that?" a first year boy asked nervously, a wet stain on his pants.

"Well, Wizzer, it's the Loch Ness monster coming for your soul." Another boy answered.

"Don't be stupid, we're not anywhere near Scotland."

As the crowd argued the behemoth broke the surface of the water. It was revealed not to be a great monster of the deep, but a submarine. It was copper and looked like something out of a steampunk comic book. A plank extended from the plane and connected with a doorway in the side of the submarine. The door of the plane swung open.

The older children grabbed their suitcases and bags and clambered towards the opening, yelling and jostling each other along jovially. The first years remained where they were, still scared out of their bleeding minds.

Rebecca glanced at the trembling children, their knuckles white from gripping the seats.

"Well, if you cowards aren't going to go first, then I will." A strong voice rang out and a boy started lugging his luggage toward the front of the plane. He was a strange boy, with jet black hair and startling blue eyes. He was much taller than any other eleven year old and had an aura around him that suggested he was much older than he actually was.

Rebecca grasped her suitcase and hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders, and followed the boy towards the plank. She deftly maneuvered her way to the entrance to the submarine, head hung low in shame.

_I should've been the brave, first one, _she thought, eyeing the boy heatedly.

She clambered into the copper sub, which was already teaming with advanced students. Livia and Rogue had disappeared somewhere in the midst of crowed bodies.

Slowly, the first years began to pile into the copper sphere, or sardine can, as Rebecca was starting to call it. Finally there was a loud screeching noise as the door squeak shut, and the captain announced over the intercom; "We're going down. Please remain calm at all times."

There were several whoops from the seniors as the submarine began to sink under the murky water.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but where exactly is this school?" Rebecca asked nervously twiddling her thumbs. She glanced out a porthole window at the greenish brown water. It made her sick thinking that they were steadily descending. She remembered reading somewhere that the waters of Lake Superior were so deep no one had actually ever been to the bottom.

"Dude, you don't think they'd put a top secret school above ground, do ya?"

Someone called from the back and there were several snickers.

"But how is there a school under–"

The submarine stopped abruptly, sending several children sprawling onto their hands.

"Someone should install handrails." Said a voice that sounded an awful lot like Livia's.

The copper door opened a second time, and Rebecca didn't hesitate. She shoved her way to the front of the group hastily, her teeth gritted in concentration.

"Woah! Eager first years." Someone chuckled, but everyone else was simply irate.

Rebecca stumbled out of the submarine, suitcase in hand, onto… green grass?

She looked up and gasped, her heart stopping. She was in a giant transparent dome and the ceiling was teaming with fish. The dome was easily a thousand feet tall and she couldn't even see the end of it. She could see fish, the outlines of boats, and…

"Is that a dragon?" she wondered, as a strange shape glided over the edge of the dome.

"Move it kid, you're blocking the entrance." A boy shoved Rebecca roughly between the shoulders, but she didn't care. She was too busy gaping at the school itself. In front of her, spread in a mismatch, randomized pattern, were gargantuan, white colonial houses. They were complete with pillars, balconies, and porches. They were all four stories tall each, and there seemed to be no end or order to them.

"Good thing they gave us a map, eh?" The boy with raven hair and blue eyes was suddenly standing next to her, a lollipop positioned precariously in his mouth. For some strange reason it made him look terribly debonair. Or childish, depending on your age.

"First years! First years, over here! Please, I'm looking for Bishop, Bridget; Burroughs, George; Good, Sarah…"

Rebecca turned to the voice and grinned at the familiar stunning face of Morgana. She was holding notebook in her hand, while pointing her wand at her temple, magnifying her voice.

Rebecca and the boy trotted over to the steadily growing group of first years as they crowded and shoved their way to form a circle around the woman.

"Excellent, excellent," Morgana scanned the crowd, counting the children's head and going over her list. "It appears you are all accounted for. Apparently there are only fifty-three of you this year, one of the lowest enrollment years we've ever had. Not to worry, that just means you'll have more time with your teachers. Now, everyone should have a map and itinerary? Don't worry if you forgot it, we've made plenty of copies. Your schedule will also change when you choose your dorm. I assume your classmates have already informed you, but you must know that your dorm will be where you stay till you are sixteen, then you will transfer to college. Important things to know, certain dorms do have certain cultures. In fact some might say the very outcome of your life could be decided by which dorm you pick, and you have ten minutes to decide!" Morgana laughed as if what she had just said was remotely funny. The audience stayed deafeningly quiet.

"Okay, sorry, first year on the job, don't look so drab," she murmured. "Couple of quick things, they'll be in your information packet but I still need to go over them. The school eagles are for public use and can be used to reach your families at any time, please don't hesitate to use them. Announcements or changes to schedule will be made and announced up there." Morgana pointed to the ceiling. "Trust me, if your class is cancelled, you'll know. It's faster than X-Mail."

There was a pause from the Muggle-borns.

"You mean e-mail?"

"Irrelevant. Okay, your information packet will be handed to you once we proceed to the Mess Hall and you choose your dorm. Follow me, and don't wander off! This place is like a labyrinth."

The group of first years trotted after Morgana Ruthar, dragging their suitcases along with them.

They approached the only redbrick building that could be seen. It was strange against the green and white background, like a sore thumb protruding outwards. The doors were open and the older students were already seated on long oak benches beside thick oak tables. At the end of the hall there were five display stands, each with its own colorful banner and sign.

Morgana led the group to the front of the hall and motioned for them to stop.

A boy made his way to the front of the hall, a dashing young man, if dashing wore glasses and a tweed robe. He cleared his throat, and raised his wand to his temple.

"Good evening first years, my name is John Scamander and I am the President of the Student Council. Today, you will choose what dorm you will reside in till you are seventeen. These booths have been established to inform you on your decision and have all the necessary information you need. In addition, the Dorm Guides are here to talk to you. In order to sign up, all's you have to do is take your pendant and whisper the name of the dorm. You have ten minutes. Good luck!"

There was a pause and then a wave. The children swarmed around the different booths, grasping for pamphlets and bombarding the poor Dorm Guides with questions.

Rebecca and the boy with brilliant eyes stayed back, their eyes searching the crowd and picking up snippets of conversation.

"Bastogne is where all the fun is at! Come on, we can sneak Butter Beer into the dorm!"

"Fort Sumter has been the reigning Quodpot champion for years. Who wants to be a part of the winning team?!"

"If you want Gold in every subject, join Gettysburg!"

"Magnus Cupidity, multi-billionaire is from Bastogne!"

"Yeah, but the guy who invented the standardized wand, John Littlefinger, who Magnus Cupidity RIPPED OFF was from Bunker Hill!"

At this point Bastogne and Bunker Hill got into a heated argument, both yelling expletives at each other.

The only booth that had not 'advertised' was Omaha. Their Dorm Guide remained silent and austere, playing with his pitch black wand. There were no slogans or chants on the booth, just the black and silver colors of the dorm.

Rebecca sucked in a breath, and raised the pendant to her lips.

The boy with blue eyes and black hair gave her a wink before doing the same.

"Omaha," they both whispered in unison.

The Dorm Guide gave them a sly grin and motioned for them to come forward. They obeyed almost mechanically, cautiously making their way through the crowd. The Dorm Guide silently handed them their information packets, and gave them a twisted smile.

"Don't let us down first years. It's tough for those who can't cut it in the best dorm there is."

**Notes: Muwahahaha! Finally! We made it to the school! Hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you want a good idea of the houses I'm describing look up plantation/colonial house on Google Images. I love that style of house :) **

**Okie98: Yes, I always want to see your pictures. **

**Susan sebest: Thanks again! **

**Please review! **


	10. Chapter 10: Persevere Regardless of Pink

**Disclaimer: This is a non-profit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. Please review!**

Rebecca sat at the table draped with black and silver, fidgeting rather nervously as more and more children began to sit down at other tables. Hardly any other first years chose Omaha. Bastogne had the highest number of recruits, with Fort Sumter being second. Gettysburg and Bunker Hill had gotten into an argument over who had the best overall average on test scores.

"_Silencio!" _a voice boomed over the crowd. There was immediate silence.

A man strode to the front of the Mess Hall, dark purple robes swirling behind him like a majestic cape. He turned to face the children, revealing the features of a monkey who had sucked on a lemon for far too long.

"Welcome children, to another year at the United States one and only wizard school!"

There was deafening roar as the seniors whooped and clapped. Apparently the silence spell can only deafen enthusiasm for so long.

"My name is Benedict Wiggleswroth, and I am your headmaster." Several first years couldn't contain their laughter. Wiggleswroth sent them a withering glare. "While I see you have all chosen your respective dorms, I would like to point out that none are inferior to the others. You all have ample opportunities to be what you choose. Before we eat, a few rules," the man's eyes slid to the Bastogne table and narrowed in suspicion. "There is no going out of the dome unless directed by a teacher or you're in a class that would require you to do so. You cannot break into the College portion of this campus. We have a campus that is approximately one hundred miles in area, and forty miles of that is devoted to the College. I repeat, DO NOT," Wiggleswroth's eyes seemed to find Rogue's baseball cap, "go to the College portion of the campus. If you do there will be severe consequences. Now," Wiggleswroth raised his hands as if in exultation, "try not to eat to the point you're sick."

There was no sound or motion. Just one second the tables were empty and the next there was food. It was like spontaneous combustion. It scared Rebecca so much she almost fell off the bench.

After she recovered she eagerly began to look at all the options that lined the table. There were hamburgers, hot dogs, pizza, French fries, different kinds of wizard soda, an untouched salad, several other untouched green things, grits, and…

"Seriously, who ordered Kentucky Fried Chicken?" she asked. "How do you even deliver takeout down here?"

"I dunno, how did food just randomly appear on this table? Oh, maybe _magic?" _A boy sneered. He grabbed the bucket and dumped several drumsticks on his plate.

"Seriously guys, you should drink water and eat fruits and vegetables. You'll regret it in the morning." Rebecca could hear a female Dorm Guide complaining to her male companions.

"Dude, we go to boarding school for a reason."

"The excellent quality of education?"

"No, so we don't have to be around mothers like you."

_Omaha is brutal, _Rebecca thought, dumping some pepperoni pizza onto her own plate. As an afterthought, she placed a strawberry next to it, in a vain attempt to look healthy.

"One strawberry does not a nutritious diet make," a girl said, sliding in next Rebecca. She was a cute girl, with bouncy blonde girls and sparkling blue eyes. She was the sort of girl who had probably been entered into beauty pageants since she was two years old. "I'm Maria, Maria Lerman."

"Lagertha," Rebecca lied. Maria frowned slightly, and titled her head.

"Are you sure that's your real name?" she sounded dubious.

"Ahhh… it's the name I chose, so why shouldn't it be my real name?" Rebecca felt a tingling sensation of pride. Her statement sounded like something a famous philosopher would say when questioning who he was. Apparently Maria Lerman missed the grandeur of the moment and squealed in excitement.

"So we're picking codenames? Okay, I should be Pink Butterfly." Maria smiled rather smugly, and Rebecca/Lagertha raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Are you sure this is your real dorm?"

"This is the dorm I picked, so why shouldn't it be?"

Lagertha shook her head and chewed on her pizza whilst "Pink Butterfly" chatted on, eating her diminutive salad.

"How does it become nighttime if there's no sun? What's making the light?" Maria asked as they walked out of the Mess Hall. She pointed to the darkening sky, or rather, bowl. Lagertha shrugged her interest focused on the Dorm Guide who was leading the first years to their sleeping quarters.

After weaving through a mysterious maze of different white colonial houses, the group came across the largest mansion Rebecca had ever seen. It was four stories tall, its porches, balconies, and pillars blown up to size to support the massive structure. A banner hung from the first balcony; it had a picture of a silver dragon against a black background and underneath the picture there were the words; Omaha: Persevere Regardless.

The group ascended the steps to the white porch and marched through the doors. The inside was, if possible, even more breathtaking than the outside. The first room was wide and capacious, completely covered in a red oriental rug. There was a fireplace in one corner and there were comfy leather couches and tables spread with no pattern in mind. The rest of the house was already lounging on these couches and chairs, talking and laughing obnoxiously. There were several bookshelves, and a radio was currently blaring Lady GaGa. Lagertha knew better than to ask how they got a radio signal under water.

"Alright, first years," the dorm guide turned to face them, and scratched his beard before continuing. "There are two staircases, the right leads to the boy's rooms and the left leads to the girl's rooms. Your room number should have appeared on your pendant."

Lagertha pulled her necklace out and scrutinized the back. It was no longer a blank black screen; there were letters and numbers written in white.

**GL4: R 74**

"Girl's Level Four, Room Seventy-Four," she murmured and dragged her suitcase towards the white carpeted steps.

The journey to the fourth floor with a heavy suitcase in hand was not going to be easy. It would've been comparatively much nicer if any of the boys had been able to come and help her, but sadly they were strictly forbidden from even going up the steps.

Fifteen minutes later, Lagertha found herself in front of GL4: R 74. Her name was already printed on a bronze plague on the door. Underneath it was another name…

"Lagertha! Look, we're going to be roommates!" Maria squealed again, her pale face pink from excitement. Lagertha tried to smile, but it came out like a grimace.

The room was not exceptionally large, but it was still bigger than the closet Lagertha had lived in. In one corner there was a brown bunk bed, and two school desks were lying in another corner. A closet was and a small dresser were the only places to put clothes.

Lagertha tossed her book bag to a desk and pushed her suitcase unceremoniously to the floor. She yawned and clambered into bed, clothes and shoes still firmly attached to her feet.

She fell asleep the incessant chatter of Maria, a contented smile on her face.

**Notes: Transitional chapter, so not much happens. This was just to introduce the dorm. Also not up to my usual standards, but my prom was last night, so I'm a little befuddled. **

**One thing, "Persevere Regardless" is a quote I stole from a WWII soldier's grave. He was buried in Germany, very far away from home, and his words have always been an inspiration to my family. **

**Susan sebest: :) Glad you liked it! Sadly though someone else also had the same idea. I looked up "Lake Superior" under the search engines for and someone else did have the same exact idea for an American wizard school. I wrote this before I knew though, but I thought I should tell you because it would be unfair to the writer. I did message her an apology, but I think her account is inactive. Again, I didn't know someone else had already had the idea, otherwise I would've put the school in the Rockies or something… **

**Clayva: Thanks so much for you review and following :D **


	11. Chapter 11: A Familiar Face

**Disclaimer: This is a parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Rebecca groaned and rolled onto her back, blinking in the darkness of the room. A gentle blue light was pouring through the window, illuminating the scarcely decorated bedroom.

"What time is it?" Maria's voice called from the bottom bunk.

Rebecca yawned in response and began to thump down the wooden ladder.

"Oh, that time. Where is that alarm clock coming from anyway?"

"Dunno. Are you Muggle-born too?"

"What makes you ask?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"Half-Blood," Maria corrected and rolled out of bed, exposing her perfect pink pinafore. Rebecca felt slightly sick.

She ruffled her hair, calming down the tangles rather than brushing them and straightened her day clothes.

"I'm going to need a shower and a place to brush my teeth," Rebecca murmured, using her tongue to feel the tartar that had built up on her bones.

"I saw there were showers and bathrooms down the hall," Maria put forward and then wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I can't believe we're going to have to share a bathroom with every other girl on this floor."

Rebecca didn't dare say anything, but she felt the same way.

_Well, I was a homeschooled, only child. Why shouldn't the thought of sharing a bathroom with at least thirty other girls be disgusting?_

She chose not to dwell on it five minutes later when she was determinedly staring at the white bathroom wall, nervously brushing her teeth. Apparently the older girls were so used to the community bathrooms they were VERY used to being around other compromised girls.

She escaped relatively quickly, Fire coat and robes in place, book bag and information packet in hand. She thumped down to the common room, yawning and stretching all the way. The common room was empty except for a few stragglers who were still blinking sleep from their eyes.

Rebecca/Lagertha turned towards an old grandfather clock, squinting at the hands. It read 6:45 and since Rebecca vaguely remembered reading somewhere that breakfast started at 7:00 she made her way to the Mess Hall.

She weaved in between the white colonial houses until she came to the only redbrick building in sight. The doors were already wide open, releasing an intoxicating aroma. Rebecca could practically taste the smell of pancakes, syrup, sausage, and bacon in the air.

_How do people not have diabetes here? _She wondered, sitting down at the Omaha table. _And are those donuts?_

She loaded her plate with fruit and sausage rather than the pancakes that were laden with chocolate chips. Perhaps a part of her remembered her mother's lessons in nutrition. The other part of her was probably just sick from pizza last night.

As she devoured her pineapples, she pulled out the information packet, extracting a schedule, map, and several syllabuses. She glanced at her schedule, frowning in concentration.

**Monday: 8:00 = Arithmancy 9:00 = Arcane Literature 10:00 = Magizoology 11:00 = History of Magic 12:00 = Lunch 1:00 = Potions and Alchemy 2:00 = Water Safety Instructions 3:00 = Herbological Agriculture**

Rebecca felt her heart sink to her toes.

_I hate all these subjects, _she cursed. The disappointment must have shown on her face because she felt a hand pat her affectionately.

"Don't worry. They always put the lamest subjects first so you get them over with quicker. Look, you won't have to do Arcane Literature or Arithmancy for the rest of the week."

Rebecca turned and grinned at Rogue. She was still wearing her hair in strings of beads, and her baseball cap was still firmly secured to her head.

"Plus, the History of Magic teacher is awesome. He just plays historical dramas and asks for ridiculously short research papers."

"Wizards have historical dramas?"

"Yup. The film industry is great here in America. Wait till you see a wizard film… let's just say, its way better than those crappy 3D conversions." Rogue patted Rebecca on the head like a dog before waltzing off towards Bastogne's table. "Might wanna start heading to Arithmancy now. It'll take you a while to get used to the campus here."

Rebecca nodded and prepared to leave the Mess Hall.

_Arithmancy is a type of wizard math, I know that much, _she thought. _I wonder how it differs from normal math?_

An hour later, Rebecca could confirm that there was no difference, except that wizards had ridiculously low standards. It wasn't even pre-algebra, it was like _primitive_ algebra. Rebecca had taken a look at the syllabus and realized that all the subjects they would cover this year she already knew by heart.

Arcane Literature was not much better than Arithmancy. They mostly just read the section in class and at the end of class they had to turn in their notes and summaries of what happened in the story. There wasn't even going to be a test. What shocked Rebecca was that the other children, particularly purebloods, were moaning in distress, as if this was relatively hard. Only she and the boy with black hair and blue eyes did not complain throughout either class.

Both classes were held in the same building. It was different from the others, in that it was the smallest and perhaps the least impressive, much like the subjects that were taught inside it.

After the two subjects, the first years poured out the front doors of the house, thrilled to be rid of the more 'mundane' subjects of the day.

"Hanging in there? I hear Magizoology is far more exciting."

Rebecca turned to look at the boy with black hair and blue eyes. He wasn't smiling, he was just observing, in the way a hawk might observe its prey.

"I hope so, I didn't come to a magic school to learn math and English."

This elicited no laugh or even grin. He only stared.

"I don't suppose I could catch your name?" she asked, looking the strange boy up and down. He was wearing old, ratty clothes that looked like they belonged in a museum, not on a body.

"I don't suppose you could," he said, turning from her, showing his mild indifference. Rebecca opened her mouth to say something snarky, but stopped. The group of first years had come to stop in front of a log cabin, just on the edge of where the campus met the water bubble. A woman was standing beside the cabin, flowing blonde locks pulled back in a ponytail. She had a dreamy expression on her face, like she was half asleep. She was leaning nonchalantly against a wooden barrel.

"Good morning children," she said in a British accent, "My name is Professor Lovegood and I will be your Magizoology teacher."

**Notes: Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe. I ended it here for obvious reasons. **


	12. Chapter 12: Lake Monster

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

"My name is Professor Lovegood, and I will be your Magizoology teacher this year." An absent-minded smile graced the professor's lips as she surveyed her first years. "Now, who here can define Magizoology?"

Several hands went into the air, including Rebecca's. Professor Lovegood's eyes settled on the snarky boy instead. She pointed and continued to stare amiably into space.

"Magizoology is the study of magical animals." He replied curtly.

"Yes, and this semester we will be studying the local animals, rather than more exotic specimens. Now, if you look at our surroundings, what kind of creature do you think will be most prominent?"

Rebecca raised her hand once again. Professor Lovegood nodded in her direction.

"Aquatic creatures," she spurted out, giving the snarky boy a burning glance.

"Strike two for Omaha, that'll be ten stars. Freshwater aquatic creatures to be more exact, and today we will be studying perhaps one of the most famous specimens in details. Would everyone please take one of these please?" Professor Lovegood raised an object that resembled a biker's helmet. "They're in the barrel. They create a temporary waterproof, oxygen producing shield."

The crowd of first years gathered around the barrel, grabbing the strange helmets and jamming them onto their heads.

Rebecca fixed her own helmet onto her skull, and fiddled with the straps. She looked towards the professor as she adjusted the headgear.

"Ma'am, what do we need this for?" she asked, stepping towards the professor.

"Protection of course, you don't want to die from lack of oxygen." She said it like it was all so simple, something a two year old should know.

"Lack of oxygen? But why would–" Realization dawned on Rebecca's face. She looked at the rippling surface of the lake and then back at her teacher, who continued to smile into space. "No. No, we can't go out there. Even if this helmet does give us oxygen, we're at the bottom of Lake Superior! The weight alone will crush us!"

"Shield spell, my dear, shield spell. It does more than keep you dry." Professor Lovegood patted her on the shoulder and turned to face the rest of the class. "All right everybody, now that you've got your helmet on, I want to make several things clear; there is to be no separating from the group as you will very probably die. Do not touch any wildlife unless you have my express permission. Try not to scream or pee your pants. Now, everyone please partner up, as it will be safer if you have one person specifically looking after you. Keep in mind the partners you pick now will be your partners for the rest of the semester."

There was drawn out pause, in which students processed the words "very probably die" and "rest of the semester." Then there was panic.

Friends who had come to school together sought each other out, while friends who had just met found each other, and only two children wandered hopeless in between the couples, searching for a companion. At last the two lonely students faced each other, each sneering in disgust.

"You," Rebecca muttered darkly.

"You," the boy with black hair said in response.

They grudgingly came together, neither making eye contact with the other.

"Now I have to know your name," Rebecca murmured, kicking the grass with her foot.

"No you don't," he spat, focused on the ground.

"Why are you so mean to me anyway?"

"Maybe because of the thing in your pocket," he raised his eyes just enough to give her a warning look, fire glinting in his eyes. Rebecca felt her heart stop and she instinctively touched her wand. Was it just her, or did it feel even hotter than normal?

"Alright, everybody grab your partners hand and follow me!" Professor Lovegood faced the wall of water and pushed through the shield as if it were… well, as if it were water. Several couples followed, grimacing in fear.

Rebecca curled her hands into fists and shook her head at the boy. He seemed to understand, so they approached the watery wall, arms crossed and legs wobbling in fear.

Rebecca pushed through the water and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the weight to crush her or for her lungs to be engulfed with water, but no such thing happened. Instead she felt very suddenly cold. She opened her eyes and grimaced; they were surrounded by murky brown and green water, the lake floor just mere feet beneath the class. They were floating as if they were swimming, but she didn't feel wet or like she was underwater at all. It was what she imagined being in space felt like. Tree stumps and boulders protruded from the muddy bottom, covered in dank brown moss. Brown was the only way to describe the underwater excursion; lots and lots of brown.

"Can everyone here me okay?" Professor Lovegood's voice reverberated in Rebecca's helmet. "Good? All right, swim towards the red light."

Rebecca kicked and reached out her arms, happy to see that even though it felt nothing like water, it still reacted like water. She moved towards the red light that was inevitably Professor Lovegood.

"Okay, never try this without a teacher. If you do there is a good chance you could die. Now, watch this." Professor Lovegood raised her wand and pointed towards the inky unknown. Ripples exploded from her wand, disrupting the current of the water, and creating a strange sound similar to the cry of a whale.

For a moment nothing happened, and the children stared expectantly into the distance. Then it came.

The shape was swimming toward them with unimaginable speed, a dark shape with visible horns. Several girls shrieked and backpedaled, but Rebecca remained stoic, her stomach doing flip turns.

Then it arrived. It was not nearly so intimidating up close. In fact it was quite beautiful.

"This, my good students, is a Lake Monster," Professor Lovegood patted the creature's head. It had the torso of a horse, with four dolphin fins, and the head of a dinosaur. It was a light blue that shimmered in the light produced by the class's helmets. It grinned at the class. "I want each other you to step forward, examine the creature, and make your assessments. Let's start with… oh some names… Bridget Bishop?"

A girl timidly raised her hand.

"Good, come closer so you can tell me what you think."

Bridget swam forwards, her hands obviously shaking.

"Um…" now it was her voice that was magnified through the helmets. "It's got four different fins. The back two are bigger and are more… muscular. The front two are smaller."

"Correct. The back pair of fins is used for movement, the front for steering. Next up, George Burroughs."

George swam up, with a bombastic air about him.

"He also has a tail that could be used for steering."

"Incorrect on two fronts. If you pay further attention, you'll see that the tail is designed like a whale's, it goes up and down. It add alacrity, rather than steering. And it's a she."

Muffled laughter reached the inside of the helmets.

"Next up, Rebecca Nurse."

Rebecca eagerly made her way towards the creature, and went for its head rather than its body. It grinned at her and Rebecca grinned back.

"It's a herbivore, it only eats plants. Look, it doesn't have any fangs or sharp teeth. They're blunt like a horse's."

"Very perspicacious of you. Five stars to Omaha. Now, for the next week we will be studying Lake Monsters. We will study their food, mating habits, habitats, and uses. They are classified as Aquatic Quadrufins. For your homework assignment, I want an expository paragraph summarizing what I listed above. It will be due Friday. But for now, I think we should all take turns riding her." Professor Lovegood patted the Lake Monster's head. "Rebecca, since you're so astute, I think you should go first."

Rebecca nearly peed her pants.

"But isn't this a wild animal?"

"Don't be ridiculous, this specimen was born and bred in captivity. Once you get to third year you can sign up for the Lake Monster races. Climb on."

Rebecca cursed her own intelligence as she clambered onto the slick back of the beast.

"Hold on, gently mind, to the neck of the creature. Don't worry, she was trained for this."

Rebecca gulped. There was another whale sound, and the monster shot into the deep.

In retrospect it was like a very scary rollercoaster with no sound or seat belts.

Rebecca saw the green and brown world pass all around her, as the beast twisted and turned, with no particular destination. It was beautiful and terrifying, her life so delicately placed in the hands of a beast. The underwater universe was perhaps the most terrifying part of all, with all its unknown depths and mysterious creatures. Rebecca could vaguely see gleaming eyes examining her from underneath rocks, their owners archaic as the dirt itself.

Finally, the beast turned towards the group of scared children, and gently glided towards them, depositing the disoriented eleven year old.

"Good job, Rebecca. Who wants to have another go?"

The rude boy, or "Snark" as Rebecca had mentally dubbed him, raised his hand. He pompously made his way towards the beast and swung his leg over the side.

The Lake Monster shot outwards and left Snark spinning through the water.

"Hold on tighter Omaha." Professor Lovegood admonished as the entire class laughed.

**Notes: Thanks to all my subscribers and reviewers :) I had so much fun writing this passage, I hope it's enjoyable. **


	13. Chapter 13: The Lazy History Teacher

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

Rebecca grinned as she removed her helmet, giving Snark a mischievous smirk.

"Class is dismissed," Professor Lovegood announced as the other children hoisted their book bags onto their shoulders. "Remember, I want that paragraph in by Friday. At minimum three hundred words."

Rebecca bit back the need to scoff. Three hundred words was child's play.

The group of students trotted towards their next classroom. Well, classroom was an overstatement. The map said "History of Magic Classroom" but the closer they drew to the strange building the less of a classroom Rebecca could call it. It was a movie theater, an old timey movie theater, complete with lights and billboards. Except, instead of the titles of films, there was a schedule printed on the billboard. The group walked right into the lobby of the theatre. Where concession stands should've been, there was a place to get extra pencils and paper. Sadly there was no arcade either.

"Good day children, my name is Professor Lovecraft and I am your History of Magic professor." A very young man stepped out from behind a curtain. He was young for a teacher, in that he couldn't be a day over twenty-five. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit, and would've been dashingly handsome, if it weren't for his steadily protruding beer belly and a mustache that looked like an enraged caterpillar. "There are only three things you need to know about this class. One is that you must take notes. I will pause the video for something particularly important so don't worry. The second is that a quiz will be handed out every Thursday. The third is that a test will be given on the last Thursday of every month. Are we clear?"

The children nodded in unison.

"Good. If you want extra credit you can also turn in a descriptive essay on the last Thursday of every month. Now, go on in, be sure to take lots of notes. It's all printed in your textbook as well so if you miss something you can always look back." He called as the children filed into the theater. Instead of plush chairs there were school desks, specifically designed to face towards the screen. Rebecca settled down in one and pulled out her blank notebook and three pencils. She looked up at the screen, pencil poised over paper, waiting for the documentary to start.

The screen suddenly went white, and there was a loud ringing sound like a drawn out siren. Then the world transformed.

Rebecca's desk was no longer sitting in a dark movie theater. It was on the deck of a ship, surrounded by rough looking Spaniards in funny attire. Words suddenly appeared on the air, and a voice began to read them aloud.

"The first European wizard sailed to the New World in 1492 along with Christopher Columbus. It is partially due to his brave efforts that the ship made it there in the first place. Juan Perez helped to keep storms from swallowing the ships whole and even kept a record of his journeys for the whole wizarding world."

Rebecca scribbled on her paper, summarizing as quickly as she could.

"When Columbus found the Southern Americans, Juan Perez found several indigenous wizards."

The scene changed and Rebecca was watching a Spaniard talking to some Aztecs in a jungle.

_Correction, I'm in a jungle, _Rebecca thought, glancing at a monkey.

"Much like the Europeans, Aztec and Incan wizards were persecuted and typically hid their powers rather than use them. A few were worshiped as gods, but this was typically short lived."

The "documentary" continued for another forty minutes, going all the way up to the Mayflower.

Finally, the illusion ended and Rebecca was left staring at a silver screen.

"That was awesome," she sighed, and several Muggle-borns murmured in agreement.

"Ignorant mudbloods, they're impressed with anything," someone else shouted and several people laughed. Rebecca wrinkled her brow.

_What does he mean, "Mudblood?" _

"All right, everyone out of the theatre, remember there's a quiz on Thursday."

The class left, grumbling slightly.

"That was the best class we've had all day."

"Nuh uh, in Magizoology we got to ride a Lake Monster. What's cooler than that?"

"Watching a fight scene between the Aztec wizards and the invaders. That was awesome."

The children began to bicker, and the Omaha group parted to go to lunch while Gettysburg trumped off towards their next class.

Rebecca hummed contentedly as they approached the redbrick Mess Hall, her mind filled to the brim with Lake Monsters and Native American sorcerers. She had almost completely forgotten about the boy who was continually eyeing her.

The Mess Hall was depressingly healthy. There was no pizza, only whole grain sandwiches with tomatoes and lettuce. Instead of sodas, there was sugarless juice and water. There were no chips either, only fruit sides and slaw.

_So that's how no one gets diabetes, mandatory healthy lunches,_ Rebecca thought, realizing that no bologna could be seen.

"Mind if I sit here?" Apparently the boy with the sneer didn't care, as he sat down directly next to Rebecca.

"Why are you so angry with me?" Rebecca snapped, nearly spilling her grape juice in the process. "I don't even know your name and you've been mean to me since the beginning."

"I told you, it's because of the thing in your pocket."

"String? Be more specific, Smeagol."

"Hey little brother!" Rogue Vir seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She ruffled the disconcerted boy's hair affectionately. "I see you've found my little friend Lagertha. Be nice to her, she's awesome. Lagertha, this is my brother Romulus."

Rebecca/Lagertha looked from Rogue to Romulus and back, too stunned to make a comment.

"But… you're both Lupus Vir's kids?"

"Yup." Rogue said cheerily.

"I'm afraid so," Romulus snarled. Rebecca was starting to think it was all he was capable of doing.

"So you guys know about my…" Rebecca found she couldn't finish the sentence.

"Your what?" Rogue asked, looking bewildered.

"I know." It was barely above a whisper. Not even audible. Rebecca made eye contact with Romulus. His gaze was burning right through her.

"I think we should start heading to Potions and Alchemy. Won't we need to go back and get our cauldrons?" Rebecca didn't wait for an answer as she stood and motioned for Romulus to follow her.

"You guys have barely eaten anything!" Rogue called to the retreating backs of the two eleven year olds. She looked from the uneaten sandwich to the empty doorway and back again. She slyly snatched the sandwich and scuttled back to the Bastogne table.

Once they were out of sight and hearing range of the Mess Hall, Rebecca turned on Romulus and whipped out her wand savagely.

"Why do you know about this but your sister doesn't?" she waved the weapon dangerously close to Romulus's nose.

"Because only the men in the family are told about that wand and what it means." The boy was still sneering, and his voice had taken on an annoying drawl.

"What does it mean?"

"What my father told you. You'll be the greatest wizard to ever live. Any wizard that can wield a wand with a double core would have to be extremely powerful." Romulus spat. "Ignorant mudblood."

Rebecca chose to ignore the last comment.

"Do you believe Merlin made this wand?"

"I believe it would've taken an incredibly powerful wizard to balance the two cores, yes. What I don't believe is Merlin never used it himself and why I–" Romulus paused midsentence. He looked down at his feet and began to scuff the ground. "We should starting getting to class." He sulked off, head hung low, bag dragging behind him.

Rebecca watched him go, frowning.

"Potions is the other way." She called. Romulus stopped and glumly turned around and headed back. She followed him, clutching the mysterious dagger wand that continued to burn her hand.

**Notes: So the way I've been writing these, each subject will probably get its own chapter, unless it's something boring like Arithmancy. I'm sorry these things are so short, but I like updating. **

**I apologize profusely for the name 'Juan Perez.' I know it's terribly generic, but I don't know any Spanish names that aren't generic. **

**Thanks to Akuma no Amy for reviewing :) Glad you liked it!**

**Please continue to review! **


	14. Chapter 14: Starbucks

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

Maybe it was the weight of the pewter cauldron, but Rebecca entered potions with a heavy heart. She wanted to enjoy her first day of wizarding school, but Romulus was making that difficult. So was the heavy weight in her pocket.

_Why does a wand with a double core matter so much? _She wondered as she approached the potions building. It set itself apart from the other buildings because it was an oversized war bunker. Literally, it was like someone had stuck a huge tin barrel in the ground and let weeds grow over it. Rebecca double checked her map, frowning at the strange design.

"Yeah, potions used to be set in one of the colonial houses," Maria suddenly vaporized next to her, pink robes and all. "But it burned down when my father used to come here. Now everything in there is fireproof. Do you want to sit with me?" Maria giggled, and Rebecca couldn't help but notice that she was wearing an abnormal amount of makeup for an eleven year old.

But she nodded yes anyway. Together they walked into the war bunker.

The classroom was set up like a high school chemistry lab. Bookshelves were overflowing with vials and ingredients, standalone tables were free of chairs and ready for cauldrons, and the teacher stood at the front of the class, blackboard behind her.

It was a she, a woman in her early forties. She was wearing black. Black on her body, black on her lips, and black hair. The only thing that wasn't black was her incredibly pale face that could put vampires to shame.

"Good evening children, my name is Professor Viggo, and I am your first year potions instructor." She spoke with a distinctly German accent, like the kind Rebecca had heard in Indiana Jones. "I'm sure you've heard your parents tell you that potions is an art form." Professor Viggo smirked, an action that vaguely resembled smelling something putrid. "They are horribly wrong. Art is silly actors playing make believe, or stupid writers creating fake worlds so they don't have to comprehend the one they live in. There is nothing awe-inspiring about art. It is nonsensical nonsense."

_I doubt this woman has seen Les Miserables or read Jane Eyre. Then she wouldn't say such things about art, _Rebecca thought bitterly.

"Potions is not an art. It is a science, a word that you wizards are not familiar with." She sneered. "But don't worry, I shall teach you. Today we will not be brewing anything."

There were moans from the class, but Professor Viggo raised her black hawthorn wand menacingly.

"There will be no complaining either. I am a firm believer in the Individualistic Study of potions and alchemy. Rather than brew a potion, we will learn five new ingredients a day and how they react with each other, their properties, where they come from, and what they are composed of. Then, by the end of each week, you shall form a potion out of what I have given you. Failure is not acceptable."

So the entire fifty minutes of class was spent memorizing the properties of unicorn's hair, slug slime, eye of rat, tooth of wolf, and bat's wing. Rebecca found she was yearning for Arithmancy or even Arcane Literature.

"Isn't his all terribly advanced?" Maria asked as they scurried out of the war bunker. "Asking us to form our own potions? And we'll only have twenty ingredients? Technically we'll only have half a day with all of our ingredients."

"I think it's a trick," Rebecca stated, dragging her cauldron. "She's giving us the twenty ingredients to a potion and we have to be smart enough to figure it out."

"Or she really is just throwing us out of our depth and she would consider that cheating," Maria rebuked, tossing her perfect blonde curls out of her face. "What do we have next?"

"Water safety instructions."

Water Safety Instructions consisted of a dorm guide handing them a pamphlet on water safety and telling them they had a free period.

"Well, that was productive," Rebecca murmured, turning over the pamphlet in disgust. "Where should we go?"

"Well, there is Starbucks."

"Are you kidding me?"

Evidently Maria was not kidding.

There was a redbrick square, and there were several dozen shops arranged in a circle. There was a bookstore, candy store, Starbucks, Pizza Hut… the list went on and on.

"They accept wizard and regular money," Maria explained as they settled own in the chairs in front of Starbucks. "They built this part of the school in the 90's because students complained about having to go all the way to the surface to shop."

"Impressive," Rebecca said as she sipped her cherry cappuccino. "How do you know so much about this place? You said you were a half-blood."

"I am, my dad was a wizard and my mom was a Muggle. My dad is actually a professor at another wizard school and my mom is a beauty pageant specialist."

"You don't say," Rebecca said, grimacing at the bright pink pastels that coated every inch of Maria's clothing.

"Uh hu. After the divorce my parents split up my time between years. Each year my dad tried to tell me all about the wizarding world. Each year I was with my mom she tried to make me more like her." Maria glanced down at her attire and then at her surroundings. "I guess I got a little bit of both. So, do you want to work on those Arithmancy problems?"

The two girls pulled out their worksheets and both chuckled at the mind-boggling five easy math problems.

"Dude, I learned this two years ago," Maria laughed, scribbling the answers on the sheet. "I guess they really don't need engineers when they can just build things with magic. What other homework do we have?"

"That descriptive paragraph for Magizoology. It's only three hundred words."

The half-blood and Muggle-born frowned as they evaluated their workload.

"Is it just me or do wizards not give out a lot of school work?"

"I think it's the classes," Rebecca said, scratching her head. "These are all the easy, no effort classes. Tomorrow though, that's Martial Magic, Hectean charms, Antediluvian American charms, potions… Those are the subjects that are going to be hard."

"I hope not too hard. I was never very good in Muggle school," Maria blushed.

"I don't think this is going to be anything like Muggle school," Rebecca said, organizing her history notes.

"I wonder what Herbological Agriculture is going to be like…"

Herbological Agriculture was held right in the middle of a field. Despite the rustic scenery it was not a very exciting class. It mostly consisted of their teacher explaining the different classifications of magical plants, which was more boring than the properties of fang of wolf.

After class Rebecca dragged herself to the library. The library was a three story white colonial house lined with cherry wood bookshelves; it was quite possibly the most comfortable library in existence. Red and leather couches were everywhere, along with tables and hot chocolate dispensers.

Rebecca settled down into a couch and began to dutifully start her paper on the environment, food, and mating habits of the Lake Monster.

_My first day at school and I haven't used my wand once, _Rebecca thought miserably as she scribbled her notes. _I thought wizard school would involve actual wizardry…_

Rebecca paused, pencil in hand, and stared despondently out the window. Her melodramatic moment lasted no longer than a second.

"Dueling club! Join the Dueling Club!"

"Stop yelling in the library!"

A pair of big, rough looking boys were cavorting around the library, waving a signup sheet.

"Hey, you're from Omaha," one said, glancing down at Rebecca and grinning. "Join the Dueling Club, we meet every Saturday at the gym."

"We have a gym?" Rebecca asked, taking the signup sheet.

"Yeah, but people only use it for parties. Speaking of which, Bastogne is having one there tonight. Show up or you're a loser."

"Don't you get in trouble if you put on parties?" Rebecca was dubious, but she signed her name.

"You only get in trouble if there's Fire Whiskey," the boy said, snatching the signup sheet away. "See you tonight and on Saturday." The boys continued their playful banter as they exited the library, sending off golden sparks with their wands.

Rebecca smiled after them before returning to her Magizoology textbook.

_I might not have used any magic, but at least I have something to look forward to tonight, _she thought happily. _I wonder what a wizard party is like? _

**Notes: I am terribly sick, that is why my updates have been quotidian. In fact I might even update later today. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and subscribed, I'm glad you're enjoying it. :)**


	15. Chapter 15: All Things FrenchInitiation

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

**P.S. I will not be able update as often as I have because I'm starting my job tomorrow. Expect updates at least once a week, hopefully twice. Please review. **

Rebecca smoothed out her hair and adjusted her Fire coat, critically examining herself in the bathroom mirror.

_I've never been to a party, let alone a wizard party, _she thought, checking her teeth for the fourth time.

For once in her life she desperately wished she had and knew how to apply makeup. Sadly her pre-puberty, plain face was still uncovered and open for judgment.

She sighed rather melodramatically and trudged down the stairs, into the common room, and out into the night air. The ceiling was completely void of stars or a moon, which made the campus eerily unnatural.

_It's like a reverse fish bowl, _Rebecca thought and chuckled. She strolled through the white houses towards what looked like an old pair of army barracks. They were wooden, one level houses with shingled roofs and jungle gyms placed at odd intervals all around them. Very obstreperous, metallic music was emanating from the barracks and multicolored lights were reflected in the windows.

"Oh boy," Rebecca stopped, her foot frozen in midair, hands clenched. "It's okay, I'll be fine. What could go wrong?"

At that exact moment, the doors were flung open and a body was sent rocketing out the opening, hair and clothes on fire.

"Oh dear, _Agua!" _she shouted, aiming at the fire.

A very disconcerted boy stood up and stuck his tongue out at the eleven year old.

"What did you do that for? I was having so much fun!" he brushed the ashes out of his singed hair and strutted back into the party. Rebecca could only gape.

She shook herself of the shock and stuffed her wand back into her pocket, hands trembling.

_Don't hesitate, just go! _

She stood up straight, held her head high, and strutted towards the doors. Until her foot caught on a root and she sprawled onto the grass.

"Cue dramatic entrance. Come on first year."

Rebecca smiled at the familiar voice. She looked up to see the blonde-haired Livia bending to her level. She was still wearing a tie dye robe, and a camera was slung over her neck.

"Hey Livia. I finished my homework and I didn't have anything else to do." Rebecca pushed herself to her feet and brushed the flecks of dirt off. 

Livia shrugged. "Suit yourself, but I doubt you'll have fun in there. It's just a bunch of dunderheads drinking way too much WizFiz and jumping up and down to obscene rap music."

**Note: WizFiz is a wizard soda**

"Then I definitely want to go in," Rebecca said staunchly, straightening up to her full height. Livia raised one critical eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"I want to try new things! I've never been to a party before."

"You're eleven."

"That's age discrimination!"

Livia grinned.

"Okay, go on in, but I bet you won't enjoy yourself. Half the people in there are doing all things French." Livia strolled away, camera in hand. Rebecca pursed her lips, looking from the doors to Livia.

"What do you mean all things French?"

Livia only laughed and waved as she walked into the starless night.

Rebecca turned away from her and walked into the "gym." It was unlike any gym Rebecca had ever been in. A giant ball of light was hung over the dance floor, sending out multicolored rays. Obscene rap music was playing, but rather than references to cars there were brooms, witches instead of women, and fire whiskey instead of beer. Personally Rebecca thought it was an improvement.

Several teenagers were jumping up and down screaming to the music. Some boys had managed to sneak some brooms and were zooming around the top of the gym, whooping. A few couples were off to the side, sitting on chairs, doing all things French. Rebecca, in her childish wisdom, chose to avoid them.

For a moment, Rebecca stood awkwardly on the outside, shifting from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching her hands.

"Hey, look, one of the sour faced Omahas showed up." Rogue, hair beaded back into braids, jumped out of the fray and grinned. "Why don't you come in and dance? It's fun."

"No, thanks, I think I'll just get some WizFiz and watch," Rebecca said hurriedly, backing away from the sixteen year old.

"Are you sure?" Rogue's face fell. Rebecca glanced upward and blanched when she saw several boys hanging from the rafters.

"Yeah, I think I'll turn in actually," she said, suddenly turned off the party.

"You sure? Curfew isn't for another hour and a half."

Rebecca and Rogue suddenly turned and saw a boy wretch vomit on the dance floor.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Fair enough. See you tomorrow."

Rebecca practically ran back to her dorm, trying to shake the party away.

_What was fun about it? People were acting stupid and setting things on fire… it must be a teenage thing, _Rebecca decided as she ascended the steps to Omaha dorm. Than the world went dark.

When she woke up, she was tied hand and foot and sitting with a group of other Omaha first years. Maria was quivering next to her, eyes wide with fear. Romulus was staring placidly forward, a bored expression on his face.

"What's going on?" she murmured, squinting into the darkness. They were in some kind of basement, and dark hooded figures surrounded them on each side, holding wands like swords.

"Good evening Omaha initiates. I'm assuming your first day of school went well?" one figure asked acerbically. "Tonight, you will face your initiation. If you fail to pass you must find another way to bring glory to our esteemed dorm. We are not just a place to rest your head at night." Rebecca could hear the scowl in the man's voice. "We are a tradition. The greatest duelers, fighters, and aurors come from Omaha. You have to earn your keep. Last year we lost the Dorm Cup to Fort Sumter and their stupid Quodpot jocks. Not this year. So tonight, you will be asked to perform a spell." His voice took on a malicious tone. "A very difficult spell. You are not allowed to perform this spell in the company of others until you learn how to perform silent spells. It's a very closely guarded Omaha secret."

"That's stupid!" Maria piped up. "You can't expect us to learn a spell in one night!"

Rebecca hissed in frustration. The hooded figure stared at the pink bundle, so out of place among the soxber first years.

"I can, because I trust that you first years don't want to be socially isolated until you prove yourself some other way. Now, who wants to know what the spell does?" He didn't wait for an answer. "It's a very dark spell, you won't catch them teaching this sort of thing in Martial Magic. It's similar to the effect a dementor has on a person. It drains them of happiness and disorients them. The spell is _Invito Nocam._ In order to cast it, you have to think of the thing you hate the most._" _The ropes around Maria fell away. "You're up first, pinky pie."

Maria burst into tears, shoulders shaking. She curled into a ball and began rocking on her bum, tears still streaming down her face.

"I don't – want – to!" she managed to get out between gasps. "This – this is the dark arts!"

A particularly feminine looking figure sighed and picked the pink bundle of drama up, and escorted her up a flight of stairs.

"Well, this year's pick looks nice. Sour face Romulus, you're next."

The ropes dissipated and Romulus stood, wand in hand.

"You know who I'll be thinking of," he sneered in Rebecca's direction. She averted her gaze.

A few minutes later several figures clapped and allowed the smirking Romulus to join their midst.

"That was a pathetically easy spell," he murmured.

"Fire coat girl, you next."

Rebecca found she was now free of restraints. She stood, her legs wobbling slightly and she withdrew her wand. Several people ooed and awed at the sharp blade. Romulus tried his best to look disinterested.

Rebecca raised the dagger wand to chest level and closed her eyes.

_What do I hate? I mean, really hate?_ She thought of Romulus, she thought of her school before homeschool, and she thought of her mother's staunch refusal of magic.

_But I don't hate those things. I just really dislike them. I'm not a hateful person. _

_But you have to hate something. Something that frustrates and aggravates you to no end, something you can never really resolve… Oh. _

_That'll do it. _

_Definitely. _

Rebecca clenched her wand.

"_Invito Nocam," _she whispered.

Everyone in the room fell to their knees, clutching their hearts and screaming. Rebecca stood alone, the only sane person in a room of mad wizards, panic beginning to settle in. Several of the students began to tear their hair and bang their fists on their chests, screaming in agony.

"What do I do?!" Rebecca screamed, lowering her wand. "Uh, uh… _Alohomora!" _She yelled, squeezing her eyes shut in fear. The piercing sounds of pain stopped and there was stunned silence. She was too scared to open her eyes, so Rebecca merely cowered, knowing that others were scrutinizing her.

"What the heck is she?"

Those were the words Rebecca heard as she bolted up the basement steps and up to her room, tears streaming down her face the entire way.

**Notes: Invito Nocam is the opposite of Expecto Patronum. Invito = Latin for "I invite" Nocam = accusative form of darkness "I invite darkness." **

**Initiation ceremonies are fairly popular in colleges so I put one here. **

**All things French… well, that explains itself. **


	16. Chapter 16: Hecatean vs Antediluvian

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the world of Harry Potter. All rights go to J.K. Rowling. **

Rebecca woke up, her nose runny and her pillow wet from her tears the previous night. She struggled down the side of the bunk bed, sniffling and shaking.

She lurched down to the communal bathrooms, change of clothes and toothbrush in hand, rubbing her reddened eyes. When she entered the restroom, the girls were being their usual chatty, vociferous selves.

Then there was silence. They stopped midsentence, and turned to look at the peculiar mud-blood who nearly killed half the students of Omaha. Several girls backed up against the wall, their knees trembling slightly.

_Word travels fast I guess,_ Rebecca thought, trying her best to shake the strange feeling off. She made her way to the shower and allowed the warm water to wash away her salty face and tear ducts.

Breakfast was quiet. The normally jovial Omaha table was replaced with subdued whispers and quick glances at Rebecca Nurse, the first year with far too much dark magic. Rebecca herself didn't feel like eating and stared depressingly at her scrambled eggs, vehemently wishing she had never attempted the stupid spell.

"Hey."

"Go away Romulus," she spat, stabbing a fork into the pile of yellow food.

"Listen," the boy said, sitting down beside the distraught girl. "They'll forget about that soon enough. You shouldn't worry, that spell was way out of our league, they should've expected complications."

Rebecca remained silent, continually abusing the eggs before her. They couldn't even be called scrambled anymore.

_Is there such a thing as grated eggs? _She thought miserably.

"You never cared about what I felt like before," she murmured, glancing upward at the boy's distorted face. "You're still a jerk." She huffed, and returned to her breakfast, allowing silence to reign.

Romulus's face turned beetroot red and he grinded his teeth menacingly before stomping off.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and pulled out her schedule for the day, trying her best to look nonchalant.

**Tuesday: 8:00 = Hecatean charms 9:00 = Antediluvian American charms 10:00 = Potions and Alchemy 11:00 = Magizoology 12:00 = Lunch 1:00 = History of Magic 2:00 = free period 3:00 = Martial Magic**

_Well, at least these are all my favorite subjects, _she thought glumly as several girls whispered, giving her sly glances.

Rebecca scanned the rest of the Omaha table and realized that the majority of the occupants were in fact sneaking quick peeks at her and making wild hand gestures.

_I think I'll just leave, _she thought and snatched up a handful of bacon.

She slumped towards Hecatean Charms, chewing mournfully on the greasy meat, truly not caring that she was going to arrive at class thirty minutes early.

_No one will want to be friends with me now, _she thought, thinking of how terrified the first years must have been.

_So what? Get a friend from another dorm, _the voice of reason said reassuringly.

_Yeah right, who has friends from other dor –_

Rebecca abruptly stopped thinking to herself so she could admire the pavilion before her. It was modeled after a Greek temple, composed of white marble, and had pillars spiraling upward. There were no walls, only a roof supported by the marvelous pillars, and there were no seats. Cushions were strewn across the white floor, and a fire was burning in a pit. A man stood by the fire, warming a cup of coffee over the flames. He looked extremely out of place in his tight fitting suit and shiny glasses; this temple should've contained a demi-god, but instead a bespectacled man was warming his morning cup of Joe over the flames. He was very old, almost sixty by his looks, with a balding head and the thinnest frame. He was so skinny you cut your finger by looking at him.

Rebecca decided that since she took a submarine to school and had ridden a Lake Monster she should not be surprised at anything anymore.

"Sir?" she piped up, settling down on one of the cushions. The professor grunted to acknowledge her presence and then proceeded to speak.

"Quite the early riser, aren't you?" The corners of his lips curved upward in a wry smile. "Or are you frustrated with the antics of your classmates?"

Rebecca, who was starting to form a bad habit of it, chose not to answer.

"No matter," the professor said. "My name is Professor Hans, and I suspect, since you turned up, you know what I teach."

"Yes sir, I do, what I don't understand is this," Rebecca gestured to the Greek temple. "Everything else here is American but this–"

"If a teacher finds his workplace to be displeasing he is more than welcome to build another. I most vehemently dislike the American style of houses, so I built this over the summer." Professor Hans gestured to the monstrous structure around him.

_Over the summer? _

"Why don't you like the American style of houses?"

"Terribly gaudy if you ask me, and that war bunker that Professor Viggo uses is just a blight on the landscape."

Rebecca deemed it wise not to argue with her professor.

"What are we learning about today professor?"

"Simple light spell."

"_Lumos?" _

"Quite r– " The professor dropped his coffee, and the clay cup broke into several pieces. Rebecca had taken out her wand and light was steadily pouring from the tip.

"I practiced as many spells as possible at home," Rebecca grinned at the astonished look on her professor's face.

"You taught that to yourself?" he gasped, bending down to get a closer look at the light.

"It wasn't that hard," she shrugged.

"No, no it is. Thirty stars to Omaha," he murmured, gently tapping the tip of her wand. "How many other charms of mine can you do?"

Rebecca screwed up her face in concentration.

"_Winguardiam Leviosa!" _she said, pointing towards the shattered fragments of coffee cup. They steadily rose upward.

"Amazing. Anything else?"

"Alohomora, but you don't have a door."

"Magically gifted and an astute observer. I look forward to seeing your performance in class."

Unfortunately class did not perform to Rebecca's standards. It was extremely droll as they were just relearning the '_Lumos' _spell, and at every turn Professor Hans had to say how superior Hecatean charms were to American Antediluvian charms.

"Far more precise," "for the educated mind," "crucial to reformed society," were just a few of the sentences he used to describe his own method of magic. He described antediluvian charms as "vulgar," "primitive," and downright "ineffective."

The vast majority of students walked to American Antediluvian charms already prejudiced, Rebecca among them.

The group meandered towards the spot designated for Double A charms, as everyone kept calling it. There was nothing there. There was a field, but that was all.

"Well, we can't have all misread the map," a Gettysburg student snapped.

"The law of probability states that it COULD happen," a Bunker Hill student supplied.

"Everyone calm down, you're in the right place."

Those words emanated from the most beautiful woman Rebecca had ever seen. She decided that the woman was a princess, a princess from the ancient Native American tribes. She had long, dark hair with a pair of thoughtful black eyes and a willowy, tall figure. She wasn't dressed in a tight fitting suit or nerdy brown robes; she was wearing ripped jeans and a tie dyed shirt and beads in her hair. She was wild, but at the same time her body was so composed and her eyes so full of wisdom Rebecca could only stare in awe.

"For the kind of magic we'll be doing, a classroom could only be a hindrance. You may call me Professor Maiara, as most of you probably couldn't pronounce my last name."

There was muffled laughter.

"Now by now, I'm sure Professor Hans has already informed you that American Antediluvian charms are vulgar and useless. Am I correct?" She raised a perfectly groomed black eyebrow. The students shuffled their feet and looked down at the grass.

"As I suspected. Well, I won't degrade myself by insulting him. I will however defend myself by explaining to you what the heck antediluvian means. Literally, ancient. You are here to learn ancient American charms, from the Aztec form of magic, to Native American, all the way to Voodoo. Although, the vast majority of Voodoo is considered dark magic, so we won't venture too far into it. The majority of Southern and Northern American charms are in fact, less precise than Hecatean. But they are far more powerful in the correct circumstances." Professor Maiara withdrew a strange looking wand from her pocket. It was twisted and gnarled, and bark was still covering the wood. "Hecatean charms, if done correctly, will provide one result across the board. Antediluvian charms will take on the emotion or personality of the caster and pour that into the spell. It's not about proper words or wand movements. It's about the heat of the moment. If you take a look at Native American life, you'll see why." Professor Maiara waved her wand and they were suddenly in a very dark forest, a bear lumbering towards them. "Imagine, being pitted against the wilderness, only your gut instinct guiding you, feeding you, providing warmth. Hecatean charms were born out of the leisure of a witch with the time and comfort to perfect every detail. Native American charms were forged in the heat of life or death consequences. As such, they have little place in the comfy, lazy, TV addicted world of today." Professor Maiara's voice turned sour. "But learning them does give a special benefit. For one, they are easy to perform in the event of an emergency. Another is that it respects those who lived here before us. And lastly, it annoys Professor Hans to the point of madness, so I think we should get on it." She grinned, a little nastily.

"Now, the spell we are going to learn today is fairly simple. It provided warmth and light for the Native Americans when they were cold or couldn't see. So," Professor Maiara waved her wand, "you'll be in the same circumstances."

Darkness fell. Complete darkness. And it was cold. Frigidly cold.

"Good luck. The word is _Keezheekoni._"

Then the voice disappeared.

"Umm… what just happened?"

"I dunno… where are we? Did she transport us somewhere?"

"Can't be, it's an illusion."

"It doesn't feel like an illusion, I'm freezing."

Rebecca rolled her eyes at the cluster of voices, growing steadily angrier and louder.

"Keezheekoni," she stated, waving her wand. It flickered and then sputtered out. Rebecca frowned, suddenly very agitated. "Keezheekoni," she stated far more adamant this time. A ball of flame appeared for a fraction of a second and then dissipated. She growled and rubbed her arms trying to numb the cold. "Keezheekoni!" she yelled and almost threw her wand out of her hand with the force. A burning ball of flame shot from her wand and lit up the darkness, partially revealing the group of huddled students.

"Hey, how'd you do–"

Rebecca didn't hear the end of the boy's question. She was pulled roughly into streaming daylight and warmth. She looked up to see a beaming Professor Maiara, rhapsodized with joy.

"I have never seen a student conquer the spell that quickly. You're a natural."

"Thanks. I just got angry and that helped a lot."

"Good. You let the emotion carry the spell, not specifics. Look at your classmates."

Rebecca turned and balked. All her fellow students were standing idle, arguing, when they were no less than ten feet away from freedom.

"Circle of enchantment," the professor pointed to a curved line in the grass. "We can see them, but they can't see outside. Also, I can control the conditions within the circle. This allows me to push them to their limit. You're very special you know," the beautiful woman sent Rebecca an encouraging smile. "Most of my students don't perfect the spell till halfway through the trial. Are you Native American?"

"Umm… somewhere back there, I think." Rebecca confessed. She knew she got her dark skin from somewhere, she just wasn't entirely sure where.

"That explains it. I'm Sioux myself." The professor pulled out a string of beads and an intricate dream catcher. "You?"

"I have no idea. I don't know my genealogy."

"Too bad. You should know where you come from. Gives you an idea of where you're going."

_I need that, I'd like to know where on earth I'm going. _

"It'll be a long time before they leave. You're free to continue to your next class or have a free period if you like."

"I'd rather stay here and talk, if you don't mind," Rebecca confessed, twirling her wand. "I don't want to go to Potions and Alchemy, Professor Viggo scares me."

Professor Maiara chuckled, shaking her head in amusement.

"She scares everyone. Sit down, perhaps we can grab a cup from Starbucks while that group stands around arguing."

**Notes: I have a job, sorry for the delay. And short cut off. I'm sorry if I offended anybody with my Native American references! I tried to be as politically correct and respectful as possible! Don't hate me!**

**Thanks to JesusFreak777. Your reviews were super helpful and nice. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story. **


	17. Chapter 17: Classes Continued

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the fabulous piece of art that is Harry Potter. I just write about it for fun. **

Rebecca came trotting back to the field of grass, two cups of steaming coffee in her hand. She didn't know why, but teachers seemed to be caffeine addicts.

Professor Maiara was still observing the students, none of which had escaped from the prison. A few were waving their wands and yelling, some had even produced sparks, but the majority were huddling, trying to preserve warmth.

"They won't freeze to death, will they?" Rebecca put forward, slightly nervous. She handed the steaming cup to her teacher, who was frowning at her students.

"No, no. they're technically not even cold. They just feel cold, they won't get frostbite of hypothermia," she said reassuringly, as she brought the coffee to her lips. "It would be illegal to put students in actual danger of freezing to death. I mean, that would be worse than putting them on brooms hundreds of feet in the air and enchanting iron balls to hit them. Huge safety hazard." Professor Maiara chuckled, as if she'd made some sort of clever quip. Rebecca's face remained blank.

"Oh that's right. You're Muggle-born aren't you? So you've never heard of Quidditch. Terribly horrible game, they play it in Britain. Quodpot is much safer."

"What's Quodpot?" Rebecca sipped the torrid liquid and cursed as it burned her tongue.

"It's a sport. You should try out this Sunday, they have a junior team for years one through three. Oh look, Mr. Vir is the second to escape, two Omahas mastered the spell."

Romulus was magically flung from the circle, his spell dwindling out.

"Ten stars to Omaha."

Romulus nodded in acknowledgement and plunked down on the grass, facing deliberately away from Rebecca, remaining taciturn. He was desperately trying to look brooding and mature; he looked like a four year old in time out.

"Quite the loquacious one he is," Professor Maiara chuckled and returned to observing the rest of the children in the circle.

It took another fifteen minutes, but the other students did master the spell. Professor Maiara dismissed them, and the Omaha students parted ways with the Gettysburg and Bunker Hill students.

Potions and Alchemy was just as boring as the day before. They never once touched their cauldrons, they merely memorized the different plants and ingredients and their reactions.

"Excuse me ma'am," Rebecca piped up in the middle of class. "But we only learn what happens when two different ingredients react. How are we supposed to brew a potion when we don't know the full reaction?"

Professor Viggo grinned. It was not a nice grin, it was like a spider who sees a fly caught in its web.

"Well, well, looks like somebody hasn't been paying attention. I have been giving you the properties of the ingredients. That should be more than enough to learn how different substances react with others. Ten stars from Omaha."

Rebecca bit her lip, a retort on the edge of her tongue. She was eager to leave the war bunker, murmuring obscenities she had learned from wizard rap music.

Magizoology was a nice relief. Professor Lovegood invited the entire group into her log cabin, where they sat on rough-hewn benches and had an open discussion on the diet, habitat, and mating habits of a Lake Monster. Rebecca turned her short descriptive paragraph in at the end of the class, eager to see her grade.

"Ah yes, very nice wording and very detailed. Diamond for you, Miss Nurse." Professor Lovegood smiled into the distance as she marked the paper and put it into one of her filing cabinets.

Rebecca shifted from foot to foot, her brow wrinkled in befuddlement.

"I'm sorry professor, but diamond?"

"Yes, the grading scale. Diamond is the highest grade, gold is the second, silver is the third, bronze is the fourth, and stone is fifth and worst. Bronze and stone are fails, while silver is average. Gold is slightly above average and diamond is the highest honor."

Rebecca grinned and scuttled out of the log cabin with a warm feeling inside, a feeling of accomplishment. She had gotten a perfect grade on her first piece of homework. Perhaps the day would not be as dreary as she first suspected.

The group piled into the Mess Hall for lunch, and this time Rebecca scarfed down a large sandwich with chips. She was unrealistically happy, the events of yester night almost completely forgotten. She chose to ignore the looks people were giving her, or the snide remarks that came her way. Nothing could stop her from being happy.

History of Magic was doubly exciting, as they studied the Mayflower and the early wizards who came to America. This involved a film about daring ocean exploits, fights for survival in the wilderness, and a deer chase that had Rebecca on the edge of her seat. Somehow she doubted the educational value of these films, but it was certainly fun.

For her free period she made her way to the aviary, which was really a lighthouse with holes for eagles to fly in and out. She clutched a letter in her hand, humming slightly. It was a letter to her parents, explaining the last few days' events and politely asking for money.

She fastened the letter to one of the eagle's legs, and waited patiently to see how the bird was going to possibly fly out of the reverse fish tank. It flew rather majestically towards the ceiling of the dome and then disappeared into what appeared to be a tunnel through the water.

_These wizards, they think of everything, _Rebecca thought, as the bird spiraled out of view. She made her way down the winding steps of the lighthouse, and contemplated the scenery. From the windows, she could see the entirety of the campus spread out underneath her. The large war bunker stuck out, as well as the bright red brick Mess Hall. The Greek temple was also very gaudy, while the other white colonial houses were a mish mash. The shopping center, as Rebecca called it, was the only normal looking structure in the entire picture. There in the distance was a fence that separated the college campus from the lower education campus. It made Rebecca's skin itch with curiosity, and a forbidden longing set root in her mind; lower level wizards weren't allowed to go into the college side of the campus, but for some reason it felt very appealing to try.

She descended the lighthouse steps turning the forbidden thought over in her head and a plan steadily forming.

_Maybe tonight, _she thought. _Right now I have Martial Magic…_

**Notes: Yeah, another transitional chapter. Please review! I need feedback, I see 1,000 people have looked at this story but I have no idea if they liked it or not. Thanks :)**


	18. Chapter 18: Martial Magic

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter; I just write about it for my own amusement, and the amusement of others. **

"I swear to goodness, if that dummy isn't in shreds in the next five minutes, I will END YOU!"

The entire class squeaked and began to wave their wands furiously, screeching '_Rescindo' _at the top of their lungs. Rebecca was seated off to the side, fiddling with her wand impatiently.

The teacher of Martial Magic stood beside her; if one word could sum him up it would be intimidating. He was a dizzying 6'4, he had a trickle of a beard, and large muscles that could be used to crack walnuts on. The worst part was that he was at least eighty years old, but he had the attitude and walk of a man in his prime. He was wearing hunting camo, of all things, and had a cigarette stuck in the side of his mouth. Rebecca cringed at the thought of being his granddaughter.

"I was in WWII and Vietnam," the professor growled, "and we would have lost if you mama's boys were on the front."

"We're eleven years old!" cried a Bastogne boy.

"IS THAT AN EXCUSE?"

"No, Colonel Payton," the class reiterated.

"Good," the colonel grunted. He sat down next to Rebecca. For a moment, he merely observed the children attempting to rip the dummies apart. Then he turned, ever so slowly towards the stoic Omaha girl.

"And why are you not practicing, private?" he took his cigarette out of his mouth and squinted at the diminutive child.

"I finished Colonel," she said sharply, clinging onto her wand in fear.

"Really?" he sneered. "Where's your dummy then?"

Rebecca merely pointed towards a pile of feathers and fabric. Colonel Payton squinted once again, staring at the pile of wreckage. He opened his mouth, but not sound came out. Rebecca allowed herself to grin.

"Well," he spluttered, "Umm… very… nice. Ten stars to Omaha." He stood and walked away, tripping slightly as he went. Rebecca began to hum happily to herself.

Martial Magic was held in a large colonial house, with no furniture and no dividing walls. It was literally a huge open space with four walls and a roof. There were dummies, pillows, and mats all over the floor for the inevitable injuries that were bound to occur. Rebecca was spread-eagled on a pile of these pillows, now terribly bored. She had looked forward to this class the most and it was an unchallenging letdown. Her eyes wandered across the walls which were littered with WWII propaganda as well as quotes from General Patton and Winston Churchill.

"Up and on your feet, soldier," Colonel Payton stood over here, short metallic wand in hand.

"I'm not a soldier, I'm a student," Rebecca couldn't help herself.

"You are in this room. What other spells do you know? I want you to do them on the students that are FAILING TO ACCOMPLISH THE SPELL!" Colonel Payton yelled the last five words. "Start with that pink girl, right there."

Rebecca knew who "pink girl" was before she looked. Maria was still struggling with her spell, desperately waving her wand and failing. Sweat was beginning to drip steadily down her temple.

Rebecca shook her head and turned away.

"I won't attack her just because she's having trouble."

"Oh look at that, an Omaha member with a conscious. Five stars from Omaha, and there'll be more if you don't learn who you are and quick." The colonel spat and motioned towards the children, all lined up in rows. "Those dorms make great wizards, if you let them. And Omaha members do not need inceptive to cast a curse."

By now all of the students had stopped firing, and were watching the interaction carefully. The eleven year old girl was standing straight and staring right into the eyes of the redoubtable man.

"I don't attack people if they can't defend themselves. That's cowardly," she drew herself to her full four feet and a half height.

"Look at that! I'm impressed," Colonel Payton grinned, "an eleven year old who has some idea of morality. You speak of cowardice, I wonder if you're as brave as you claim." He raised his short wand towards her. "I'll be nice, you get the first move."

Rebecca nearly balked. She backed up slightly, raising her wand to eye level.

"Is that what you called bravery? Bullying an eleven year old to do what you want?"

"Put your money where your mouth is. _Locomotor Wibbly!" _

"_Protego!" _Rebecca's shield charm blocked the oncoming Jelly Legs Jinx. "You lied, colonel, you said I could get the first move."

The colonel's mouth had fallen open.

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _she yelled.

"_Protego," _he countered, flicking his wand aggressively. Then he did it again, only this time his lips barely moved.

Rebecca fell over onto the mat, her breath completely knocked out of her body.

"Very good, but you should never go up against an opponent who you know is more advanced than–"

"_Expelliarmus!" _

The colonel's wand went flying from his hand and landed quite innocently next to Rebecca.

The colonel's face went from regular red to an angry purple in mere seconds.

"Back in my office, now." Colonel Payton's voice was so cold it put icebergs to shame.

Rebecca dragged herself to her feet and followed her teacher morosely to the back of the room.

"Class dismissed!" he barked, and the other students ran out the door.

Colonel Payton directed Rebecca into a small office with a cheap plastic desk, a few filing cabinets, and more propaganda. Guns and bayonets hung from the walls, but what a wizard would want with a bayonet was beyond Rebecca. She stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, dreading what wizard detention would be like.

"That was extremely reckless and stupid of you," the colonel said, eyeing the girl with a cruel glint. "But it was also very brave. Which is why I'm about to offer you a job and a position. I run the dueling club, and how'd you like to be captain of the first years?"

Rebecca gaped.

That was all she did for a very long time.

Colonel Payton coughed and frowned, raising one critical eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, I'd love to, that'd be great," she spurted out quickly.

"Excellent, our first practice is on Saturday in the gym. Now, I'd like to know how you mastered some of those spells out there." Colonel Payton took out a cigar and popped it into his mouth.

"They're all in the book, sir," Rebecca replied.

"Yes, but they're there so you can be exposed to them, not learn them. Most of those spells you don't master till you're in your third year. I'll have to talk to the other teachers about you skipping a grade."

Rebecca gaped again.

Colonel Payton lit his cigar and waited for a reply.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" he snapped.

"Oh, thank you sir, thank you."

Colonel Payton grunted in reply and waved her away. Rebecca scurried out of his office and out into the day, a new spring in her step. Everything seemed so perfect…

The shadows moved and a pair of yellow, glowing eyes followed the petite girl.

_Soon… _it thought and then dissipated into the darkness of the water.

**Notes: Thanks to susan sebest for reviewing. And just generally being great. Hoped you liked this one :)**


	19. Chapter 19: The Dark Shape

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.**

_All my teachers seem to think I'm a genius, _Rebecca thought gloomily. _But all the other students in Omaha are afraid of me. _

She lay spread out on one large couch in the Omaha common room, a large radius separating her from any other student. She was pouring over her History of Magic notes, trying her best to look nonchalant. She probably looked constipated.

_Even Maria won't talk to me, _Rebecca thought, sneaking a glance at the pink puffball. _Geez, you nearly kill half the students in your dorm and all of a sudden no one likes you. _

Maria checked the clock. It read 9:30 PM, Friday. Deciding that it was a reasonable time to go to bed, she folded up her notes and trooped up the stairs to her room.

She settled into bed, her eyes closing momentarily, drifting off into a somnolent doze.

Then they flew open, her gaze fixed on the closet doors. They had swung open of their own accord and were no wide open. Rebecca grasped her wand, her adult side telling her that monsters didn't hide in the closet; her true side told her to start yelling hexes.

Then IT started pouring out of the closets. Only Rebecca couldn't identify what it was. It was an amorphous, black mass with no apparent shape. It was like a sinister fog; and a clawed hand had started to form and reach towards the prone girl.

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _she screamed. The hand continued to stretch, claws elongating into razor like talons.

"_Protego!" _she shrieked. The hand paused, but only for a moment before it continued. A face formed out of the mist, a large leering face with twisted, cruel features.

_Remember what Professor Maiara said, _Rebecca thought as the hand finally rose to her level. _Embrace the fear and the adrenaline, your magic will be as strong as your emotion. _

_"__Invito Lucam!" _she yelled and thrust her wand towards the dark mass. Golden sparks erupted from her wand and the thing screeched like a banshee. It writhed on the floor of her room before dissipating entirely.

Rebecca dropped to the floor and rushed out of the room, not caring that she was dressed in her Wonder Woman pajamas. She raced down the stairs and approached the oldest looking student in the common room.

"Help, something just tried to kill me, I swear," she begged, tugging on the student's sleeve. The student frowned down at her, and shook her off.

"Where is it then?"

"It was in my room! Please help!" Rebecca cried. The student sighed and motioned for the female dorm guide to follow her.

The three trooped up the stairs, the two older girls murmuring to each other. Rebecca pointed towards her room, finger shaking and stood back, allowing the two girls to enter.

_"__Ridikulous!" _

"_Lumos!"_

_"__Locomotor Wibbly!" _

The two witches were shouting random spells and grinning at Rebecca, trying desperately to calm her down.

"Well," said one, stepping out of the room, "looks like there's nothing there. I think you'll be fine."

"No, I swear, there was something in there. It tried to grab me!" Rebecca begged, pulling on the dorm guide's sleeve.

"Look, sweetie, we know it's hard being away from your parents. But if you're scared of the dark–"

"I'm not scared of the dark!" Rebecca growled in frustration and stomped her foot. "I swear there was something in there."

The two older girls exchanged looks. Finally, the dorm guide sighed and extended her hand amicably.

"If you like, you can sleep with me in my suite. Or I can put a cot in your room. Would that make you feel better?"

_She's talking to me like I'm four, _Rebecca thought furiously.

"No thank you," Rebecca said icily. She walked past the two and descended down the stairs and out into the chilly night. Manmade stars were up on the dome tonight, spelling the names of different students or taking the shape of strange pictures.

Rebecca stomped off towards the only person she thought would take her seriously.

Professor Maiara's house was a miniaturized version of the traditional colonial house, and it sat quite comfortably between Professor Viggo and Professor Hans's houses.

Rebecca knocked on the white washed door, shifting from foot to foot nervously. She heard loud noises from the other side of the door, like several people scuffling… and hooves clopping?

_What's a horse doing in a house? _She thought, frowning.

The door swung open to reveal the bottom half of a monstrous horse.

Rebecca gaped and looked up, to see that the horse's body did not end in a horse's head. It began to form into a man's body, with a man's head, and man's arms.

"A centaur," Rebecca breathed, looking up in awe.

The centaur's face distorted in a frown as he looked down at the young witch in Wonder Woman pajamas.

"What do you require, and why do you interrupt me and my wife at ten at night?" The centaur grunted. His voice was incredibly deep and animal like.

"I'm sorry, I thought this was Professor Maiara's house," Rebecca said, slowly backing down the steps.

"Miss Nurse? What are you doing up at this hour? And out of your dorm?" Professor Maiara appeared next to the centaur, a robe wrapped around her lithe body.

Rebecca couldn't help it. She gaped. Both eyebrows went so far up her brow they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Miss Nurse? You look rather pale. Would you like to come inside for some tea?" Professor Maiara motioned for her to come in and the huge equine body moved aside.

Rebecca numbly moved inside the house. It was beautifully decorated with impressionistic art, and tasteful rugs. Rugged, roughhewn furniture was the theme of the place, and it reminded Rebecca of being outside rather than in a beautiful colonial house.

The only thing that was out of place was the giant half horse man that seemed to take up so much space.

"Achilles, could you go and make some tea? I'll take Miss Nurse into the living room."

Rebecca was still recovering from shock, but she was able to follow Professor Maiara into the sparsely decorated living room. She settled onto the leather brown couch, and clutched at the sides, still trying to figure out the centaur and the charms teacher.

"Alright, what's so important that you risked breaking curfew?" the professor said, settling into an old fashioned rocking chair.

"I saw something, something that tried to kill me," Rebecca spat out quickly. "Please believe me, no one else will." Rebecca pleaded, wringing her hands.

The professor nodded and crossed her legs in thought.

"I believe you. What did the thing look like?"

"It was dark, and… it didn't have a body! It was like a…"

"Boggart, I bet you anything," Achilles said. The huge centaur was suddenly in the living room, his head nearly touching the roof.

"No, I doubt anyone's deepest fear is a dark blob," the professor said. The centaur moved closer to her, carrying a tea tray. He gently handed Maiara the steaming teacup, and handed Rebecca a large mug of hot chocolate. He looked, once again, very peculiar, tenderly holding a teacup. Rebecca resisted the urge to stare.

"I don't know what else it could be though. A dementor is completely out of the question. Anyway, dark forces don't try to harm eleven year old girls," Achilles sipped his tea.

"True. Rebecca, have you done any kind of strange magic in the past few days? Something not given to you by one of your teachers?" Professor Maiara asked kindly.

Rebecca's mind wandered back to when she performed the _Invito Nocam _spell for initiation.

"Well, one… but everyone else did it!" she was quick to defend herself, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Oh, that Omaha spell?" Maiara rolled her eyes. "Students have been doing that for years, I'm sure nothing could have happened. Unless the spell was unusually powerful." The professor smiled reassuringly. Rebecca felt slightly faint.

"If you like, you can sleep on the couch tonight, and in the morning I'll teach you some basic defenses mechanisms against dark spirits. Probably the initiation was potent and attracted a ghoul of some kind. Not harmful, they just looked terribly scary. I'll get you some blankets and inform the security staff by eagle." Maiara stood and walked to a closet, extracting a bundle of blankets. She laid them out on the couch before scribbling a few short sentences on a note.

She exited the room to go find the household eagle, leaving Rebecca and Achilles alone. Rebecca shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of the centaur, curiosity mingling with fear.

"So… do you have a job here or do you commute to the surface?" Rebecca tried to sound like she wasn't desperately trying to figure out what a centaur was doing with the charms teacher.

"I do, I teach on the college campus. Advanced Astronomy. In the summer Maiara and I live with my herd." Achilles attempted to smile, but it turned into a grimace halfway.

"Ah. And you and the professor…"

"We're married yes." The centaur was starting to openly frown.

"Okay. Okay," Rebecca tried to look anywhere but the centaur's face. "Okay," she said as an afterthought.

She was relieved when Professor Maiara returned and bid Rebecca goodnight.

Rebecca watched the retreating back of the centaur and the human, her features distorted.

_Weird, _she finally decided as she fell asleep on the leather couch.

**Notes: Yeah, the centaur bit is really just there for comedy relief. Centaurs were actually rumored in myth to take human women as brides, so I thought I'd try to use it to be funny… don't know if it worked… **


	20. Chapter 20: The Centaur's Story

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

Rebecca woke up to unfamiliar settings. The uniquely decorated house confused and then emolliated her fears, allowing her to settle back down on the comfortable leather couch.

"Ah good, you're awake."

Rebecca almost jumped out of her skin. The centaur was standing in the living room, quietly sipping a cup of tea, a pair of reading glasses affixed behind his ears.

"I was worried you'd sleep the day away my dear. And after what Professor Payton has been telling me, you'll have to be at dueling club very soon," he said gruffly.

Rebecca nodded and stretched languidly, her only wish to continue sleeping in blissful oblivion. Achilles the centaur continued to watch her, patiently waiting when the bundle of drowsiness would rise and continue out of his house.

"Achilles, shouldn't you be gardening?" Maiara appeared around the corner of the living room, her hair braided and beaded, wearing a loose tie dye shirt with holey jeans.

"As you wish," the equine creature shook his head and exited the living room, casting dark looks at the child on the couch.

"Sorry about that, he never has really gotten used to humans," Maiara said, settling down into a rocking chair.

"But he married you," Rebecca pointed out, noticing the obvious contradiction.

Maiara cast her a wily smile.

"Yes, yes he did."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the living room. Rebecca was brewing with unanswered questions, and Maiara was patiently waiting for her to explode from curiosity.

"So, how did you two meet?" she finally asked, trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

"Quite a long story that. Antediluvian American spells are very hard to study, since no one actually got around to writing them down," Maiara sighed, regretting the lack of literary prose of her people. "The centaurs however, keep records and practiced similar types of magic. I found a herd and was successful kidnapped–"

"Kidnapped?"

"Centaurs despise humans, dearest, and when a witch is poking her nose around they will not hesitate to take her captive. I had intended on being captured anyway, as I needed to do my research and I didn't know how long it would take. Achilles was the chief astronomer and when I told him of my plight he helped me uncover old records and spell books. After that I attempted to escape with the books, which he did not appreciate." Maiara grinned as if remembering a fond memory rather than her imprisonment. "Anyway, when he confronted me about running away, I asked him why he didn't want me to leave. He said because he loved me and wished that I would stay, but he wouldn't make me. So I left…"

"Wait, you left?" Rebecca blinked. She had been slightly enthralled by the little love story, slightly Shakespearean in its plight of lovers from different households. Or races in this instance.

"Yes, I left. Because I had no intention of staying in a herd for the rest of my life, let alone marrying a centaur. Anyway, I stayed away for about a year, enough time for me to publish my findings and become a successful figure in the academic world. Then I decided that it was all irrelevant if I didn't have anyone to share it with. So I went back to the herd, was captured again, and found Achilles. We got married that summer."

"But…" Rebecca turned the story over in her mind. "Mr. Achilles said you spend nine months here and then three months with his herd. Doesn't he miss his family? Nine months is a long time."

"We rotate. Every five years we switch, that way we each have plenty of time among our own cultures."

"And your family…"

"You should go get breakfast and get ready for dueling club. Up and at em."

Rebecca was smart enough to take the hint, so she left the beautiful house and made her way to the red Mess Hall pondering the strange couple even further.

Rebecca stacked her plate high with chocolate chip pancakes and proceeded to drown them in the viscous syrup, mixing the mouth melting chocolate with the steaming sugary liquid. She wolfed the stack down, with all the pre-puberty gusto that comes from having a puerile metabolism.

"Hey."

Rebecca knew the person before she even turned. The squeaky, optimistic voice could only belong to the petite form of Maria, who stood rather awkwardly in her Hello Kitty outfit.

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in so long. It's just that, I heard about what happened during initiation and I got scared. But I know that you would never hurt someone on purpose. We're friends, aren't we?"

Rebecca looked the pink form over, her features dubious. Rebecca couldn't say that knowing a person for a week counted them as a friend, but she decided that she really was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

"Yeah, we're friends," she said begrudgingly.

"Really? Oh, I'm glad," Maria giggled, and settled down beside Rebecca. "Also, I heard you were going to be captain of the dueling club–"

Rebecca groaned inwardly, and pushed the leaning tower of pancakes away, her appetite suddenly vanished as she realized why Maria was so eager to be affable.

_She just wants to be in on the dueling club, _she thought miserably. She blocked out Maria for the duration of the breakfast, instead focusing on using bacon to sop up the syrup from her pancakes. Her mother probably would've had a heart attack, and, from the way she was eating, Rebecca was fixing to have one as well.

**Note: Short, I know, but I have a job now, so updates will be smaller and probably less frequent. **


	21. Chapter 21: The Dueling Practice

**Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit parody set in the fictional world of Harry Potter. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. **

Rebecca plodded over to the gym, wand in hand, Maria trailing behind her, babbling on about H&M or some other clothes store.

"– and I love their chiffon dresses, because it really brings out my figure, what do you think Lagertha? Lagertha?"

"Hmm?" Rebecca mumbled, her brow pulling tight in a brooding expression.

"Do you even like to shop?"

Rebecca sighed as they neared the chateaus that served as gyms. "No, not really. I mean, I like Hot Topic…"

"Uhg, why?" Maria's nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Never mind. You were at chiffon?"

As Maria continued to prattle on, Rebecca winced and thought; _I need new friends. But no one wants to talk to me after what happened at Initiation…_

They finally entered the gym and Rebecca was surprised to see a large aggregate had already appeared. The majority of them were wearing the silver and black of Omaha, but a few red and gold clad Bastognes were present, as well as the copper and orange of Fort Sumter. Colonel Payton was in front of it all, rolling a cigarette between his forefinger and thumb.

"Alright, everyone divide into your separate dorms," he shouted over the obstreperous students. The students filtered into their separate dorms, and Rebecca noticed that the only dorm that hadn't showed up was Gettysburg.

"Good. Now, staying in your dorms, separate into two groups. First years through third years, then fourth years through seventh years." The students separated into even more diminutive groups. Now there were only eleven people in Rebecca's group, most of them second years. The majority of them were giving her snide looks, as if she'd already done something wrong.

"People who I have elected as captains, step forward."

Rebecca stepped out, her chest slightly puffed with pride, which soon deflated. She could see why her teammates already disliked her. There were eight over captains, and all of them were older and experienced. For the senior team, only seventh years were captains. For the junior team, only third years were captains. Except for her, the short, tiny girl who looked very peculiar in her antiquated fire coat.

"Good, come up here, I have a gift for you all."

The eight captains stepped forward as Colonel Payton extended his hand. In the palm, there were eight small pins, each with the different colors of the dorms.

Rebecca picked out a black and silver one, that read; _Junior Omaha Dueling Captain_ in extremely tiny cursive. She pinned it on her coat, once again feeling a deep sense of pride.

"Okay, now this is a club, not a class. Therefore, you will not receive a grade. But you will receive points for every match you have with an opposing dorm. Also, I will merely be the supervisor, I will not have jurisdiction to actually teach you. I will also organize matches and the like. The team with the most points at the end of the year will be given the Dueling Cup." Colonel Payton barked. "Now, you may practice either in the Martial Magic classroom, in this gym, or the field used for Antediluvian Charms. Be on your way!"

The older students immediately exited the building, but Rebecca waited, her features contorted in befuddlement.

"Sir, you're just going to… let us go?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, Miss Nurse. Do I look like I have the time to take care of you bundling students?" Colonel Payton spat.

"Well, you are a teacher–"

"Don't be smart with me!"

A few minutes later, the total twelve students in the Junior Omaha Dueling Club were walking towards the empty field that normally held Antediluvian Charms. They were all grumbling mutinously, sneering at Rebecca's back. She could practically feel their complaints already. She could hear snippets of their conversation as well.

"Why is she captain? She's just a first year!"

"How long has she been here? A week?"

"What qualifies her to be captain?"

Rebecca groaned and turned around, wand in hand.

"Okay," she said, catching eye contact with Maria. "Anyone who can defeat me in a duel can take my place as captain, I swear."

The Omaha students paused, eyeing her suspiciously. One boy stepped forward, plastic wand gripped in his fingers, a nasty grin twisted onto his features.

"_Locomotor Wibbly!"_

_"__Protego!"_ Rebecca deflected the jelly legs jinx easily. "_Petrificus Totalus!" _

The boy collapsed, arms frozen to his sides, eyes wide like a deer.

"Next?" Rebecca asked, burnishing her wand on the leather of her coat. The dueling club shuffled and stared at the grass concomitantly.

"Good, we'll start with _Keezheekoni." _Rebecca smiled cloyingly, her face eventually turning into a sneer.

"But that's a charm. Plus, its Native American, aren't they supposed to be stupid and primitive," one of the older girls laughed.

"Don't you guys remember what Professor Maiara said?" Rebecca said, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows. The crowd in turn gave her a simultaneous look that said, 'do we look like we pay attention in class?'

"The Hectean spells, which is what they learn, are super specific. It takes years to train a Hectean spell into perfection. But the antediluvian spells don't rely on perfection, they rely on the need of the moment. Trust me. Here, look at this book." Rebecca pulled something that could not be classified as a book out of her pocket. It could be more aptly described as a pamphlet.

"This has the last thirteen remaining martial antediluvian spells. Let me tell you something. We're going to win with only these thirteen."

There was a pause. Then laughter. The children were sniggering and sneering at Rebecca, several turned away and began walking back to the dorm.

"Wait! Listen!" Rebecca pleaded, but the other students continued to snicker and make faces.

"Fine, I'll make you a deal," she said, waving her wand desperately. "You all practice whatever mediocre jinxes you have, I'll practice my way. We'll see who does better in the duel next Sunday. Romulus, you're in charge."

Rebecca stomped off towards… Well, she wasn't sure where she was stomping off too, but she decided she ought to make a show about it. She ended up behind the Mess Hall, flipping through the pamphlet, biting her lip in concentration.

She had done a lot of research over the week and she had come to the conclusion that for all their merits and culture the Native American wizards had been egregious record keepers. Only thirteen martial spells had survived to the present, being passed from parent to child.

Rebecca's eyes came across her favorite. It was a spell that gave the feeling of being shot with an arrow, without the actual damage or resulting death. It was however, painful enough to break someone's concentration long enough for her to get a good _Petrificus Totalus _in.

She fingered the barely read pages of the pamphlet, oblivious to the shadow that was gradually ascending over her blissfully ignorant form. The darkness that seemed to seep from the very ground began to transmute from an amorphous shape into something very much… unknown.

"Do we have artificial clouds now or something?" Rebecca murmured, looking up. The darkness dissipated.

Rebecca shrugged absent mindedly and chose to move to another reading nook. She stalked her way to the library, still fuming from the day's events.

In the distance, something sighed and whispered; _"Soon."_

**Note: I have a job now, and I'm studying to get into college, so my updates will be fewer and farer between. I apologize. **


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